PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I lay alone in the disturbing obscurity of this bleak night,

Longing for any sweet sound that will disrupt the deep stifling silence,

That surrounds my solitary world washed only in dim candle light.



There must be some consolation from this pitiful, dark existence.

Before sanity falters, with the warm salt tears impeding my sight,

And then nothing in my eccentric world will make one damn bit of sense.



I reach out for the radio to find a suitable melody,

Notes of a long forgotten concerto and a dainty minuet,

Or the lyrical voice of a diva who will sing strong just to me.



The powers of some hot, hypnotic beat, the passionate words inset,

Some gentle strains, some tunes intense and some surging with great energy.

As the music wells, infusing my soul, the salt tears are all but wept.



I lay, alone, but, the music quells the chilling frost outside the door.

In it, I live a life of gladness with great memories full of love.

My room is brimming with butterflies and royal dolphins by the score.



The ceiling gleans with angels' wings that rain harmony down from above.

And I dream about sweet bright orange skies that diffuse to greet a blue shore.

In my music, I am not alone. I can soar free, just like the dove.



In my music, there is no pain to constrain this silent prisoner,

Who carries such realities upon herself and dreams alone each night.

There is always a tender voice that will comfort and encourage her.



It's the music I play that keeps the tears at bay and each candle bright.

The music transforms everything from foreboding to feeling sure

That my solitary life will be whole again, come dawn's morning light.



06/09/01

Amy Riberdy