Midnight Sonata

Ought the sunlight touch thee, 'ere breath of life escapes;
from whither come the forward pace, 'ore dusk's dark mantled breast.

'Tis on the grave horizon, love lingers there for thee;
yet whilst thou moral conscious weeps, behold the crimson crest!

A victory awaits thee, apart from thine own soul;
and slumber doth escape thee, as the ground berates thine feet.

Abroad the hills the shadows call, 'tis time for thee to come;
The wind doth whisper, beckon's, pleads, forget that which thou seek.

Aye, there upon the mountainous ridge, a lark betrays his song;
drawing deep, the night surrounds, embrace the ancient desire.

The hours gone, thy brow inclined, drenched in pity's woe;
To stand alone not realized, thy love is what thou longs.

Atop the foreign peak thou stands, awaiting dawn's caress;
when midnight strokes the strings of night, creation seizes thy soul;

Beauty all around thee glows, cascades to heights unknown;
the last midnight sonata, thine heart's true love doth hold.

Copyright 2004-2008 CZF

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