A cacophony of notes

Restlessness surreal

I can smell them:
those divine notes.
So small,
as they wear
their aroma of sorrow.

Deceitfully (with clicks of deception)
they sing forth:
tears;
to claw at plangent moans,
bitter upon
the righteous tongue.

Restless clouds
tiptoe along
bars of a muse; 
inspiration
that bursts through melodies
to land,
distant and sour,
in the grasp
of; blind man's empathy.

A web of lies
pulls down the net
of nescience.

Lick nostalgia 
from the walls,
and taste their
desolate desperation,
as tiny moth 
pulls wings 
from cherubic pulse.
Placing them within
glass encasement; glowing 
with stolen life.

Innocence is wrapped
in a gauze of wails.
But halt:
our skulls 
permanently grin,
from the warden's shelf
as the gates to self
are burned to the ground,
and we are scattered in the dust.

Reviews

[L]

The imagery almost allows you to feel the poem with all your senses. It's sad and dark and beautiful - these are some excellent words.

[Lady]

A haunting piece that beautifully illustrates the freedom of life yet the inevitable decay of death. You do a wonderful job with imagery as well as timing - just beautiful.

Amazing work.

[asdarkeyesclose]

I loved the suggestion of music swirling in the light mists of your opening stanzas. I thought this was very beautiful to read.