Chopin is slowly stitching the night around me
he’s weaving the darkness to shutter my room,
As my eyes surrender to his Nocturne Moon.
The universe expands behind the veil of light,
in here the world breathes freely as only dead men might,
Without resistant fear, released into second sight.
Where Symphonies crescendos crash the stars asunder
and a million raining sparkle-lights flood to Seas of wonder.
Shimmering they roll toward my waking.
Tis true the tides do never wait advancement or retreat,
that even in this netherworld the laws of Earth repeat,
and cast me back un-rescued to my voyage incomplete.
© Wolfgar 2019