Sing me a song of life. Let there be a lilting note of childish joy. Build it up to the boisterous interlude of youth. Play it softly, weaving in the melody of wistful reminiscing, mellowed with age. Give in now to the strains of unrequited love. Over and over again, nurture the tune into an overture of existence, and breathe out the words that sing about life and all there is to it.
Sing me a song of life. Play long enough, and you will see a dance start. Little dust motes pick up the rhythm and sway around, borne by bright beams. Look closer and you can see forms of the faerie, twirling in gay abandon to the music. Oblivious to the emotions that have built up every note of that harmony, they are only possessed with the beat and the cadence that lifts them up. Their very being seems to thrum with the orchestral symphony of your life. And yet, they are strangers to the joy that runs in your veins or the pain that throbs with every heartbeat.
Sing me a song of life. Feed the music with your lifeblood, and watch others cavort around, carried away by the sheer beauty of it all. There might come a time when you stare with the morbid fascination brought on by the precious last moments as your essence drains away. And there are others who will streak themselves with the brilliant crimson, two steps away from the next masquerade.
Sing me a song of life. But watch carefully and you will see the cuts and the lies. The crimson congeals too soon and the crescendo seems to be composed of anguished cries. Note that the languor of those who frolic is of those who have been fed well. A bit closer and you see lips pucker in anticipation and the tongue running across white, sharp teeth. The prey might writhe in agony but the predators will be too busy applauding the killing stroke. Life ends as abruptly as it begins... and there is always a celebration to mark the event.
Sing me a song of life. Let it be real and let it be alive. Let it defy the end and stretch out to the heavens. Throw back your head and scream out your passion in a poignant requiem to all you are and will be. Let there be no watchers. And let the dancers be consumed in the fire that strokes the melody of your life.
Sing me a song of life. But let it be life at its purest and truest. Let it be a rhapsody that embraces all that hearken to its seductive notes, forever. Let it go on and on. Cos there is no other tune I'd rather lend my ear to.
Sing me a song of life...
Cogito Ergo Finito
Sing me a song of life. Play long enough, and you will see a dance start. Little dust motes pick up the rhythm and sway around, borne by bright beams. Look closer and you can see forms of the faerie, twirling in gay abandon to the music. Oblivious to the emotions that have built up every note of that harmony, they are only possessed with the beat and the cadence that lifts them up. Their very being seems to thrum with the orchestral symphony of your life. And yet, they are strangers to the joy that runs in your veins or the pain that throbs with every heartbeat.
Sing me a song of life. Feed the music with your lifeblood, and watch others cavort around, carried away by the sheer beauty of it all. There might come a time when you stare with the morbid fascination brought on by the precious last moments as your essence drains away. And there are others who will streak themselves with the brilliant crimson, two steps away from the next masquerade.
Sing me a song of life. But watch carefully and you will see the cuts and the lies. The crimson congeals too soon and the crescendo seems to be composed of anguished cries. Note that the languor of those who frolic is of those who have been fed well. A bit closer and you see lips pucker in anticipation and the tongue running across white, sharp teeth. The prey might writhe in agony but the predators will be too busy applauding the killing stroke. Life ends as abruptly as it begins... and there is always a celebration to mark the event.
Sing me a song of life. Let it be real and let it be alive. Let it defy the end and stretch out to the heavens. Throw back your head and scream out your passion in a poignant requiem to all you are and will be. Let there be no watchers. And let the dancers be consumed in the fire that strokes the melody of your life.
Sing me a song of life. But let it be life at its purest and truest. Let it be a rhapsody that embraces all that hearken to its seductive notes, forever. Let it go on and on. Cos there is no other tune I'd rather lend my ear to.
Sing me a song of life...
Cogito Ergo Finito
1 comment:
Heyy!! Very lyrical..! :D A little deep for me maybe ( You know, knowing me and my err lack of poetry appreciation)but still plenty lyrical :D.
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