Fragments

⤞weeping violins

My memories
are a sad lament,
whispers of weeping violins
in my mind,
and I cannot quite forget,
and leave this
melancholy far behind,
for the melody haunts me,
sinking deep within
my skin,
until I'm part of
the rhapsody,
a sorrow that speaks to me
from within,
yet if I sway to the rhythm,
and allow the music
to guide my way,
I can acknowledge
the sorrow,
and prevent it from
leading me astray.