Nocturne

No Music, No Life

My fingers start to act on its own,
Pressing the keys of the piano you'd thrown,
Perfectly hammering the broken strings,
Blending with the melody of the white crow that sings.

Every note I play of this unsung composition,
This troubled soul sinks in the depth of frustration.
Ripping the light that once I held
Breaking the rhythm that once I yelled.

Reviews

[Jakl and Hyde]

That hit me right in the heart. I loved it keep on writing.