When the Music Stops
In the beginning, we played musical parts
singing the script with free-spirited hearts
Adlibbing lines without rehearsing a word.
As absurd as it sounds, quite profound
that our threads were a woven tapestry
without eyes meeting and voices never heard.
We danced, swaying like palms in the wind
Our dance steps were always in sync.
We were Fred and Ginger,
turquoise and silver... p b and j
until the day the music stopped...
In the realm where light and dark merge,
that shadowed place where docile dreams
and hellacious nightmares converge,
we found ourselves worlds apart.
Our Utopian haven had been storm tossed
and left us swirling on a dystopian plain,
a deserted land where painful silence rules
for those who played the game of fools.
For days I've been hearing piano notes
that seem to float from memory's core.
A chance encounter, a phone call,
familiar lyrics to a musical score...
a romance rekindled?
His music once filled my head,
but I don't dance to his songs anymore.
There's never a happy ending
when nothing is left to be said.
There's no point lingering in thoughts
over a broken heart when it's mending.
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