The Violin

You play the violin as sad tears drip from the bow of horsehair you wield so well.

Strings hear the echoes of your many sorrows, as they become vibrations and sounds, to ripple along your ivory skin.

Memories of your lovers flow into the wood to haunt the players of your violin.

3 thoughts on “The Violin”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s