Our song will never end, you said,
tho' the melody may change in time,
but the song goes on and on, you said,
like a prologue to an opus grandeur
led by Barbirolli, or Karajan;
picking up the missing notes, you said
replacing each with breath-mark and slur,
a better flux, with a touch of glissando,
or a reprise of the song it once was
when first you ear-shot its overture;
you said this song would never end,
you swore our souls to Mephistopheles,
until one day the music just stopped,
silence, the most deafening of sounds,
echoing fixed and finite forever...
like Life upon Death.
FjR MMXV
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