The Voice

A mournful melody slowly spins
out from the keys, a mournful hymn
that lingers in the air, sad and long

notes rise and fall, in graceful sway
as if to mimic the ebb and play
of a gentle breeze that stirs the night

but beneath the surface, there lies
a deeper pain, a hidden prize
in each note, a whispered plea
for something more, for love to be

and so the music flows and weaves
a tapestry of sound that grieves
for all that’s lost, for all that’s gone
for every heart that’s been undone

yet in the midst of all this pain
a sense of hope, a sweet refrain
that rises up, like dawn’s first light
chasing back the endless night

and as the nocturne ends, its tale
of love and loss, of heart’s travail
in its wake, a glimmer bright
of hope, of love, of endless light.

:: 03.16.2023 ::