Music Prompt
In music
In music we have rhythm.
In rhythm we have beat.
In beat we have compulsion.
In compulsion we move our feet.
In feet we have dance.
In dance we have soul.
In soul we have connection.
In connection we are whole.
In whole we are as one.
In one we are together.
In together we are in love.
In love we are forever.
In forever is our eternity.
In eternity you are mine.
In mine you are my universe.
In universe for all of time.
In time it will not matter.
In matter you will always stay.
In stay there is always music.
In music we shall let it play.
***
Picture Prompt
Hold It Forever
“ Look , I received this heart shaped balloon.
As a present, for today is a special day.
Another Birthday that I spend alone, oh how I wish.
I wish that you were here with me so we could play.
Seven year’s old I’m growing into a big boy now.
My five and six Birthday’s seemed sad too.
As I get lots of presents, and a cake.
But mummy a daddy cry a put cards there for you.
They always tell me about how beautiful you were.
When we were both sleeping in our cot’s.
You know mine was blue and yours was pink.
We had teddy’s that match their colour.
With a funny spinnings thing’s that would never stop.
I always look at our photographs and think.
About what you would look like now that you are seven.
My beautiful little twin sister, who wait’s.
Who plays without me up in heaven.
So today I’m giving you my balloon,
That I send to you with all of my love.
Please dear little sister will you promise to catch it.
Hold it forever with you, as you wait for me above”.
***
Broken Theatre Of Dream’s
The veils of sorrows weigh heavy.
After they fall to envelop my heart.
My last chapter in love’s performance.
Ends where my heart is torn apart.
My broken theatre of dream’s now lie’s silent.
I do not hear the encore of captivation.
As here it seems now, that I am all alone.
For me , there will be no standing ovation .
The choruses of once so much happiness.
Their lull to the audience’s now shattered.
In this tale of a woeful love story.
To which it was only you who had really mattered.
The playwright that is now left in pieces.
His minds seats of enthralment lost in some rhyme.
Just the air of once beautiful remembrances.
Never the word’s again , that say “once upon a time”.
All that now is left , are his invisible word’s.
That mesmerised a lover , now written on a page.
The now rotting steps that were of Inspiration .
That forbids one final act upon love’s stage.
That stage that only shows a darkness.
His spotlights that once shined, now dim.
As he is the only one who ever truly cared.
Let us now pan towards a stage , where stands only him.
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