The Old Songs
By Thomas A. Beyer
This work was published in the Spring 2013 issue of The Lost Country. You may purchase a copy of this issue from us or, if you prefer, from Amazon.
The old, forgotten songs, lost forever
But for clever men’s devices, that record,
Encase, enshrine them, ever timeless, ne’er
To alter, no matter how the years extend:
The listener grows old; the songs are ageless.
From deep within invisible, minuscule grooves,
The songs, just the same, beckon to me,
Seize me, wrench me, out of this my life,
Transport me, back, back to where we were:
Emotion recollected in tranquility.
I live for a moment in long-gone days,
And the tenderness of funeral bliss,
Breathe the perfumed air of the dead place
Behind my eyes, lost in the melancholy
Nightmare of guilt, joy remembered: Time.
Why should I desire so cruelly, fiercely
To return? Is it only because the past
Is passed? Because I’m barred from it forever?
Because I hate! the fiery swords and the consequence
Of choice? Once-for-all: No more.
Ever forward. Ever, ever forward.
No time to think. Forever on the brink.
Ever, ever forward. Ever forward,
And on into vile eternity. Caught:
Between memory and destiny.
That moment. Before.
It was, my God! it was:
And the music played.