(This poem is based on the book 'Violin' by Anne Rice)

To Anne

Violin

One evening, one hall.

An instrument, most beautiful of all

 Trembling vividly as the bow plays its song

Emotions arise, death is close and the tale is long;

The noble angels come to this world to cry and fall.

They come and sing and let all souls answer to the call.

They come and cry and try but let everyone die and fall.

Could you feel that melody and see that bright sound

On the one night when Passion fell in love with Fate?

And a woman so dignified, and her violin so wild,

Was playing her song about bitterly loving hate.

Faces and memories, colors and the sounds,

Affection and destiny forever bounds

Your humble, little soul to your frail heart

To your long forgotten part:

To endless, Divine Art

When your Love falls

In love with that night

But as soon as you hear this

Mad, lovely and wild concert of eternal

Beauty and bold fear, feel the shapes

Of the long past and the sound of the tear

Which falls to the ground, if the music stops

For a short moment of forever tormenting loss

 And pain, which kills your sweet soul every time,

You will see your loved ones and I will see mine.

And now the rhythm changes and slows down.

You start falling from the clouds to the ground

And see the woman, and all those people

So real and yet you feel you’re blind.

One evening, one mind.

Love, suffering

Fear and losing

Do you hear it?

Do you bear it?

That obsession

and hope in the

Lone man with

Dark hair at the

Stage, his young

Eyes, his old age

Waiting and standing mutely

Yet crying inside

Not trying to hide

His agony and his crazy love

The music dies

Stop the fight

Lead him to

The Light