There was a time not long ago,
Where fingers reach for the moon,
Falling short.
Hand held out still,
Waiting.
Deep aches of the heart,
Spilling.
There lies witness in the stars,
As a nightingale,
Tumbles,
The night sky.
Violin strings sing,
As tears fall,
Illuminating,
Moon to moon.
Folded eyes bathed in pale light,
Glistening wet,
Music of the night,
Clinching to the pains of the day.
Let it go,
softly,
softly,
softly,
With the crash of the sea,
In soft piano songs.