Half past midnight

At first you played me like the strings of a violin
fingers and feelings dancing like moonlight
the notes caressed my soul soft as a symphony

Drowning in the melody lost in our rapture
it was already half past midnight when I felt the shadows
and the whispers of destiny calling to me

Your song drifted from far away
no longer beautiful the illusion revealed
your music repeating without feeling

Now a scratched vinyl record
the needle skipping again and again
each revolution more and more pain

the mournful notes and I taking flight
the dream that you were
still painted on the night

© Ann Bagnall