“Soft” by Nigel Bray

‘Soft, For the Music Dies.’

Soft, for the music dies within this room

Where once the bridge that Heaven sings

to man, returning him to grace,

is an empty space.

 

Soft, for music never silenced never can return

and we the living must, its passing mourn

sighing in the gloom.

 

Soft, still within the silence lives the love

he crafted here upon an earthly stave;

the song, moon slivered nights and sunscaped days.

Soft, threading memory stakes the muted claim

which we, the living, tearful, bear the blame

denial of our grave.

 

Soft. Dying music’s timbre strikes the note

discordant; chaos bring the age of truth

to him; returns all harmony and places times innocence.

Soft, here lies the living ache, seek the dawn of melodies.

Each day his love reborn sustains undying hopes.

Artist Bio: Nigel Bray is an Englishman, writer and actor. Long-term survivor. Boyfriend, fiancé, now husband, and eloper to France, where he now lives in peace and love, with wine and cheese, his man and his dog. Visit his website at: www.mrlucky-1956.com. E-mail Nigel at amiraculousman@gmail.com.

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