After Music

Somewhere within me,
I hear a shadow weep.
A little life is still left beating inside.
Today I feel an urge to feel.

Somewhere a mute violin waits,
In search of a forgotten chord.
The faded etching on the ageing walls
Speak of memory and patience.

A plaintive strain brings me here,
In search of an old answer.
Sometimes I fear a rebuttal,
Cold and stinging, like the slap of your ire,
From my own fleeting shadow.

When I step out into the sunlight,
I hope I find the tune that will lead me home.
In between the farce and the silence,
Somewhere, I shall find the etching,
On the unread walls of my soul.