05-26-2013, 04:47 AM
Affixed on the flame, Of an old beeswax candle,
atop a silver tray, adorned with a filigree handle.
I stare hard and feel my eyes begin to burn,
Entranced by my dry smoldering pain, the mind begins to churn.
Thinking of life, the pain, and the stories that will be told.
stories well known, centuries of old.
I sat there for hours watching the flame,
until the flittering light, of that old beeswax candle,
stopped at the silver tray, with the filigree handle.
As I direct my attention elsewhere, I smile at an object with a familiar tone,
atop my piano sit mothers, beloved metronome.
So I sit at my piano, caressing those time worn keys,
listening to the sound of a heartbeat, that the metronome sings.
Reminiscing of the days before i was grown,
Before I was this monster cold and alone.
Back when mother would play the piano ,On a Erard baby grand,
While father and I stood near listening, Holding hand in hand.
We were truly a happy family, before the blood feast started,
now I'm left here for eternity, morning my dearly departed.
I remember the day so vividly, I was reading "A Midsummer's Night Dream".
When my ear caught the sound, of my mother's deathly scream.
My mother and father, they both lay emptied on the floor,
gazing across the room, i saw a dark figure at the door.
I knew right then and there, that my time had come to expire,
The figure I saw was a bent, pale, and old vampire.
Trembling in fear, I called out to the monster,
"Kill me now, I've nothing left to lose!"
To which he quietly replied,
"no my child, I've different plans for you".
-the metranome
atop a silver tray, adorned with a filigree handle.
I stare hard and feel my eyes begin to burn,
Entranced by my dry smoldering pain, the mind begins to churn.
Thinking of life, the pain, and the stories that will be told.
stories well known, centuries of old.
I sat there for hours watching the flame,
until the flittering light, of that old beeswax candle,
stopped at the silver tray, with the filigree handle.
As I direct my attention elsewhere, I smile at an object with a familiar tone,
atop my piano sit mothers, beloved metronome.
So I sit at my piano, caressing those time worn keys,
listening to the sound of a heartbeat, that the metronome sings.
Reminiscing of the days before i was grown,
Before I was this monster cold and alone.
Back when mother would play the piano ,On a Erard baby grand,
While father and I stood near listening, Holding hand in hand.
We were truly a happy family, before the blood feast started,
now I'm left here for eternity, morning my dearly departed.
I remember the day so vividly, I was reading "A Midsummer's Night Dream".
When my ear caught the sound, of my mother's deathly scream.
My mother and father, they both lay emptied on the floor,
gazing across the room, i saw a dark figure at the door.
I knew right then and there, that my time had come to expire,
The figure I saw was a bent, pale, and old vampire.
Trembling in fear, I called out to the monster,
"Kill me now, I've nothing left to lose!"
To which he quietly replied,
"no my child, I've different plans for you".
-the metranome