The Piano

As I sit here upon this pedestal of isolation,

The glimmering moonlight shining through the window behind me,

Like a silvery dream,

I stare endlessly at the piano, my tormentor.

How kind you were once to me,

My old friend.

How I used to sit here,

Just you and me,

For endless hours,

In deep mediation,

How through you and your harmonious voice,

I revealed to this unforgiving world my thoughts, passions, my loves….

Until she came, yes, until she came.

She came, as bright as the burning rays of the moon,

She came with a smile and open arms,

And like a fool, I feel into those arms,

And from then on, I composed only for her, and not my soul.

Forgive me my old friend,

I have abandoned you,

As I have abandoned myself

How white your ivory keys once glistened,

Now turned yellow from neglect and melancholy.

A thick film of dust now covers you like a veil,

And now darkness is your only companion.

How could I have replaced you and my music- my soul,

For her.

This woman, this mortal flesh

Over the voice of angels that you once sang through me.

Oh how I would take it all back, and spend all of her time with you

My old friend.

Alas, but I am too late.

We are now old, the years unforgiving to us both.

Our voices now out of tune and lacking the passions of our youth.

Forever silenced.

Forgive me,

My old friend.