Poem By David Zvekic
So long it seems, since music played euphonic chords for passion's muse,
Composed that true loves' words should wear, and gentle souls amuse;
For evermore those songs would bear the notes I'll never use.
He thought that she, his melody and joyous dream for whole of life,
Could fly her heart away with him to the land of verse and rhyme:
Where no-one feared two souls so near, and they'd sing 'till the end of time;
Their hearts and dreams entwined...
But little could he sense that she did never true happiness know; -
Her sorrow couldn’t make plain to him the feelings she dared not show: -
So shattered, she flew away from him, to a place she thought to grow.
Grim, he fell there to sharp despair; the land, the sky, the gods cried o'er,
That never again would true love bear such beauteous song of yore.
A dream did finally die that year, as love died just before;
Their hearts died just before.
How long it's been since music played symphonic paeans for love's amore;
Discordant lamentation knells where love had flown before.
True Love is dead, her spirit's fled; She left her muse on the blasted shore,
Forevermore would dire tones ring where bells have rung before,
For never would hear – another ear - a song like we sang before...
No, never as near did two souls sing that song we sang before...