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 – 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.