Midnight Lullabies

11 | Of graveyards and melancholic tunes

my heart pumps melancholic tunes
into my inert veins
and they seem to echo through every cell
spreading numbness like an epidemic
my body is a song without a tune.

I plant my trees with hope
and water them with love
but they only grow to
breathe in all that's left of my joy and sanity
and breathe out sorrow and insanity. 

my bones shiver
in the graveyard that is my body;
every battle scar a grave
for the pieces I've lost of myself
and the empty souls echo within my hollow arteries.

but nothing grows when it is dark
so they shrivel up like raisins
and with it goes my love and hope
so I pray for the lost pieces
to find some place and call it home.

for I have nothing to offer
but an eternal resting place;
however, despite the tune-less songs,
it is not the melody that matters so,
but the meaning each lyric holds.

and I promise you, with time
I will compose the greatest symphony
for the long gone that lie beneath my skin
I will sing them a lullaby so beautiful
the Devils will cry and the Angels will erase their sins.