Sunday, December 14, 2008

The Night Musician

Broken strings, broken wings, broken everything.

As I fix my gaze up to the sky,
The sound of silence fills my ears,
And the darkness that surrounds me says

It speaks of your unspoken words.

I cannot play on broken strings,
Neither puppets’ dance, nor my heart in endless melody engage.
As the musician enters into his trance,
Conjuring up the night song, as enchanting as the raw rose, it stings.

I cannot play on broken strings,
Angels don’t fly on broken wings,
But the whisper of the night, it sings

An everlasting chant of ecstasy.

You will bring,
Then come, and share,
And fix my broken everything.