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Violin Song
My violin met its end in a violent thunder of destructions,
Hailed by the beating of your drum in the background of dysfunction.
Counter me again and reveal my broken chord
Play me a misfelt grin, disregarded and ignored
Let the rain down poor, the steady beat is the sting
In a fleeting moment we made music and heaven did sing
But Beelzebub is vicious and cupid is weak
And he burnt my violin when it's sound met it's peak.
Now I'm lying here, a pillow cover stained with tears,
A silent melody, a memory of happier years.
All the little things are my broken strings the tension placed
But yet the leather skin of your drum is all I taste
Your drum took every gentle blow that was yours and my own
But still the beat plays and from my pain it's beauty's grown
The sticks I used to play you stole from me then gave away
But I left the bow to remind you of blue skies turned gray.
I really like this poem. You are one of the few people who can write in the classical styles and feels (not just random free verse stuff) and still make it feel new and interesting. The story in this poem is so vivid and self contained that it's really engaging to read. I really like the metaphors and symbolism going on (like the "But I left the bow to remind you.." line). Good stuff.
Nathaniel