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The Last Chord Still Rings

 
He saw something
in the brief moment between
sleep and consciousness.
The moment was longer than life.

He saw her wrinkled;
face like an old leather book
and eyes unchanged.
He stood before her, tongue full yet -

remaining silent.
The roses grew around their feet;
aged and died between a blink.
Time was running ahead of them but

it was not forgetting.
There were words that he should've said
that he knew would offer naught.
He dared not utter a single vowel

because he knew
these would've been his last words
and maybe if he didn't speak
there couldn't be an end.

She knew the words
and knew that they were their maker. Her eyes
relented suggestively then
their ears caught the last three syllables.

He wakes up sharp,
eyes wide; sweat on his brow watching
her sleep and breathe then
he whispers three words, holds his breath.

She continues breathing.
He smiles, deflates, and does the same.
Written by MrAlptraum (Mr A)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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