The Unfinished Opera

A soft, eloquent, sweet tone of memories

flood my mind.

Forging through the muck

the heavy saturated skies of my years.

Its sentimental sound plagues me

drawing nearer and nearer.

Foul as a corpse, joyful as a Christmas morning.

A radiant, angelic, lasting harmony

Trickles into my ears.

Combating all the anguish

all the bitterness that has come to pass.

How it pulls at my heartstrings

wrenching forth tears.

Ill as a hornet's nest, serene as a Sunday nap.

A pleasant, glorious, triumphant melody

making my hair stand on end

excavating my fears.

An unceasing symphony

never resting, never pausing

not knowing when to stop.

Endless as a baby's love, shark as broken glass.

A brilliant, inspiring, suspended note

hovering above my every step

raising my expectations.

Waiting for its crescendo

to thunder and bring revelation 

then crash down into utter defeat. 

Swift as a landslide, slow and steady as a setting sun.