Strings
A single string
Vibrating, a cordless agony
In D-minor:
I stand, I flail; I flop, I wail;
No, not again and never more:
I will make a stand, take my hand
And pull me there, pull me hard
Towards your light, away from
Perpetual night โ across northern
Moors at midnight: we run we roam
Free as birds in early spring,
Like children without constraints,
Unshackled and full of dreams;
Our moon rests on the summit.
A single string
Slowly pulling
Our dreams
Into a reality,
Worldly vibrations
Of carrier pigeons,
The song of one
Becomes a lasting memory,
Our terminal thoughts
Accompanied by strings
Playing in consonance
Our final tune: our goodbyes
In D-minor.