From far I hear the strains of a mournful melody It flows from a violin whose strings are about to break As the violin sings, the night carries the music along. The notes tremble, the strings vibrate as under grief It makes such deep tremors in my heart. Its mournful cry is repeated in sad refrains My mind turns emotional, yes, I cry. Once from it flowed happy notes of love It whispered secrets of lovers, their hopes and dreams It sang of tales of courage that build the soul, Of standing tall and shouldering on in the midst of trials. But now its harmony fades away like dying breath The violin knows, its end is drawing near, It can no more produce heart stirring music again. The bittersweet melody that falls in my ears, With its notes breaking again and again, Creates ripples of pain in my heart. As the loose strings are about to break, It will soon lie still in a deserted space, Cracked and splintered like a tree tossed by the wind. Yet the broken violin will remain, As a momentous testament of its glorious past.
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