The Seven Symphonies of the Night

By Philip H

        I.

The Prelude
Plays as your steps echo
In empty halls with emptier feelings
The instruments are tuned
Why conduct when you can listen
The Harp is strung
The Hallway is never-ending
Why avoid that reoccurring Melody
Wrought of your own thoughts

        II.

The Overture
Opens as the Opera of your eyes bursts into song and
Sees the window ajar but your mind closed off
Rhythm from the powerful Brass of your memories
The Moon shines too Bright for your tempo
Your eyes digress and thoughts will protrude
Into that immobile Door
The Key is tossed off of the Stage

        III.

The Bolero
Begets the exhaustion of your horn
The pillow beckons the Bass
Time’s cruel reminder of bed
And what lies under those tear-stained quilts
That wrap you in your own fear
How unnerving it is to recount those sounds
Forgotten Aggravations played so beautifully
If such a thing can be Admirable
Cling to the Fact that you cannot wake and Take note

        IV.

The Minuet
Mistakes you for a flute
But you are only a drum
For even in your dreams you cannot escape the unforgiving beat of
Your own ensnaring repercussions
Breath is a choir of dispelled distress
Burrow deep into those Reeds
The Breaching Nightmare is not yet over