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[Anonymous]

EDITED: (thanks @fogglethrope)

The Child In Me Died

I dreamed to use my lyre
to strum the world to sleep,
so their stress would fade away
with the reverb off the walls;
with the harmonies that stilled its soul,
hearts coalesce.

I dreamed to write a novel
so I could pave the steps
into my imagination;
I conjure up an idea,
you find a divergent interpretation.

But through all my avocations,
I assumed you would be there.
But with you gone,
I forgot the hues in my life,
and began to see the world
in black and white.