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The Pages of the Past
My community is sadly empty. To relieve the silence, I think I will post a poem about time.
Violin
The waltz beats out in perfect time
With memories made of glass
That makes its very strings divine
Of an era of the distant past
A man dances for another day
Immortal youth never to regain
It is only the music that did not decay
When his beauty by Time was slain
The dances step in final beats
And the phantoms rise once more
Resurrected on their silver beat
As he cries from his chapel’s door
“Play your music
Play your dance
You’ll never get another chance
Before your mortality cannot defy
The immutable decree of the eternal sky�