Song of the Nightingale

music-sheet-5117328_1920.jpg

Tonight, I tell a tale of woe
So listen to my tragedy
On that cold windy night
We stood together in the clearing
A familiar night sky above
But our end had become glaring
I remember that look on your face
The emptiness in your eyes
You just looked tired of it all
I finally realized, you felt nothing
There was nothing left of us.
Nothing left, at least for you

The blistering heat
The warmth I could always feel
Was nowhere to be found
I reached for you
But you did not take my hand
Turning with a sigh
You walked away from me
And with every step you took
I somehow remained mute

My eyes burning hot
With unshed tears
My throat aching from the agonizing screams I was chocking back.
My stomach tearing from the pain of my insides squeezing and twisting
And then, when I couldn't see you
I looked right at that beautiful moon
Listened to nature's nocturnal symphony
The cicadas, the frogs, the crickets and birds.

I smiled and I let it rip out of me
The blood curdling scream
A wounded and animal at death's door
Again and again, the screams ripped out, The tears gushing, my heart rending
Again and again, till there was nothing left.
And suddenly for the first time.
The moons bright glow seemed mocking and cold.
And the silence of the clearing confirmed the state of my being.
I was well... And truly dead.
I left the clearing that night, nothing more than a walking corpse.

H2
H3
H4
3 columns
2 columns
1 column
2 Comments
Ecency