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Melody Under the Moon
They loved me when I sung
My songs of jubilant tune
I poured out both my lungs
They'd listen till the rising moon
But one day inspiration left
My instrument had died
The sounds of Melody bereft
Now till the rising moon I cry
Where could they have gone...
Her precious sounds and keys?
In my arms she died upon
My eyes poured out a sea
Her strings were ruined and plucked
All her notes were out of tune
From veins her music eruct
Under the rising moon
I bowed, I blew and pressed her
To play her one last time
I heard the broken chords infest her
And I screamed into the sky
The same sky that bore the sounds
Of luminescent, peaceful tunes
The same skies that bore the round
Daunting,
Deriding,
Disgraceful!
Rising moon...
The deathly screams! The cries of agony!
Louder than marching drums could fabricate
My felicity obliterated by her rhapsody
No tune may ever patch or mitigate
In a world with too many, I still sing alone
And they boo me off my stage
They decrowned me from my throne;
They'd rather hear a tune assuage
Their hearts as hard as stone
They don't want to hear my voice
My unfortunate epiphany;
I don't really have a choice,
They can't stand my misery
And so now I'm off my stage
They listen to a newer, happy tune
I think of Melody in my cage
Under the glowing, falling moon
Copyright ©
Luna Schwartz
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