MY violin

I wish I were young, when death was distant
when I thought of love, when my heart was brilliant
I felt like I was split in two, my soul, that is
when I was divided, those two i wouldn't miss
where in the world of deception, half was spent
and at my cozy hearth, the other half was sent
the former was tough and resiliently made,
while the latter was formed with repent and taint

I was a man of not many words,
and my business is one for an introvert
I always felt for the maple's predicament
cruelly, as I cleave, I guess I'm no equivalent
you wouldn't mind, I thought, as I turned from the stump
I'll make a piece of art, so don't be such a grump
Beautiful! I call to mind, the last instrument i assembled
the best for last, before my body and me no longer resembles

At home I would think ways to end the suffering
while on the outside, my smile was never ending
But in the end I couldn't hold, the mortal chains itself
with a match I burnt my stall, and the flames i joined myself
As an apparition, I tread this dirty world, watching my spouse
and the pain engulfed her, I saw, as she worked a new house

later on, when her eyes were worn, and her skin was rough
she held my ashes in her palms, and smeared my last wooden craft
the contraption, when finished, so lovely the sound
my soul, and ethereal form, were inevitably bound
she tuned and played the ash-made fiddle
recalling my fate, she intricately wove my riddle
the bow danced, and devotedly, she performed
her fingers moved so wildly, and yet so warm

It was then that I felt, that her love was true
unrequited it was, and now the guilt accrues
my mind is pondering ways to communicate
I want to converse, and with that, erase your hate
repent is not enough, but too I'd pretend
my gifts were not enough, but now I'll amend
I'd be upon the land where my last maple stump once was,
playing lucent tunes for you, but untill you appear

I'll

never

pause