Yiruma

Yiruma long poem

Photo by pj_vanf


Yiruma

The piano quietly drifts along,
As another beauty quietly drifts from my life…

The time is coming to an end,
The song;
I wish I had the words,
To say…
Goodbye…

But the instrument has nothing written upon the sheet.
My heart a thesaurus,
Dictionary,
Interwoven within.
Stitched together with silent screams…

I cannot help but think something is missing.
I am missing.
I wish I went missing.
I have no Mrs.,
So I don’t have anything…

From cradle to grave,
It has always been pain.
Suffering is all that I know.
No foot-print in history will remain,
Once I close the book on this unwritten story…

A biography will be left empty,
For there will be nobody left to write this…

Your life.
I have no light,
Sitting at my side…

As I write on late into the ten thousandth night,
Alive,
I wish the bulb would just go out…

But still I survive,
On scraps and pieces,
Dreams and wishes,
Morsel’s and minutes.

I am skin on bones.
No meat on the fishes,
To feed the cat,
That I do not have…

I think it is time,
To drop the axe.
Into the void,
No looking back…

(C)2018 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.

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