Invisible Hands Embrace
by Fiza Pathan
The piano plays a rhythm to the empty heart with vacant thoughts,
The melody intoxicates the listener into remembrances of the unnameable past.
He held my hand in his so gently, like Buddha held the swan to his breast,
That my mind enveloped in his form forever more.
There is distance now between us-mountains prevail
To keep from holding again his soft hands.
Hatred has won over his heart with glee-it mocks me in the face
With carrion’s death head to show me that love is no more-it is dead.
But I still remember his hands which played the guitar and the piano so majestically,
As if he could conjure up many moons before my eyes, to my heart’s delight.
But now there is only one moon that I gaze out into the night,
Only one beacon of loves true light in the twinkling night sky.
The piano still plays its woeful tune to the cosmos and the poor soul of a lover
That still clings to an invisible hand for warmth, in the cold night’s icy embrace.
Copyright © 2014 by Fiza Pathan
Image Courtesy: http://www.morguefile.com/archive/display/123318