HIS MELODY
Etched in the woes of life he played his violin
Each note a tear he would not let begin
Strings whispered his secrets that this world never knew
Sorrows in tremors soft, trembling true
His bow moved slow through the ache of his years
Polishing grief with the shine of tears
A melody arose, so tender and yet forlorn
Cradling the dusk where his dreams were torn
Yet in that lament something bright was spun
A fragile hope like a full moon hung
For from the sadness of life, he played and still
The world grew quiet as time stood still.
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