The Carillon
THE CARILLON
When the bells rang, in the night,
When the world silenced, at midnight,
I kept writing, with a silent pray.
A letter, from within heart I wrote,
To someone whom silently I dote,
To send them what I couldn't say.
And in this night’s silent stay,
All to hear was the carillon’s play.
The strokes I drew, with passion mine,
To tell her, let us intertwine,
To tell her I could not mislay
The love harbored within my heart.
This the prayer I want impart,
The path I didn’t want to stray.
And in this stars’ array,
Calming was the carillon’s play.
Yet as I wrote, a sudden voice spoke
Doubting every word, my every stroke,
And the path I chose, the way,
The prayer I wrote with love,
With the help of cupid from above.
Yet the voice I heard gave me dismay,
“Thou not worthy her love”, heard it say,
The voice led by the carillon’s play.
“Silence! Voice, thou doubt me not!
To make me change, make me fraught,
With those words, a pity of a sway!”
The shout pierced the darkened night,
Fighting the quiet dark with a smite,
Though into the silence, fades away.
Now nothingness be a heavy weigh,
The voice within, the carillon’s play.
Now in my own fear, I close those eyes.
In my head, those voices, silent cries,
Now in my head have an endless stay.
My beloved I tried to write,
My beloved, my light, so bright,
As resolve began to stray,
My dreams slowly fade away,
Louder became the carillon’s play.
“I believe,” I spoke those words,
“Me with her would be like birds,
Ought to love, to fly away.
Yet now as I hear this voice,
Doubts been sown about my choice,
This matter I can’t mislay.”
In this voice’s wicked say
Louder, the carillon’s play.
This stain on my mind, it clouded,
“Unworthy” the voice, thoughts are shrouded,
To suffer, this is the way.
Unbearable, so the voice’s speech,
Like a devil’s malice preach,
Like lashings of sins to pay.
As soul moved further astray,
Led by the carillon’s play.
Yet hope, I shalln’t forfeit to such,
I shall free me from this voice’s clutch,
Next to my beloved is my stay.
“Thee I won’t give to my soul!
Thou shalln’t take my mind toll!
Shan’t reside as toy nor prey!”
The quiet night pierced this say,
As to be heard, the carillon’s play.
Then I sat, in fear despair,
Voice arose, and in its lair,
Trapped me, in these walls of gray:
“Thou shalln’t, shalln’t find luck.
Thou forever dancing on fate’s pluck:
Flight a dream, there is no way.”
Now the voice, fuels mind’s decay,
Like an echo, the carillon’s play.
“Silence, Quiet, devil’s voice!
Preaching lies, there is a choice!
I shall win her own heart’s way!
My heart is not alone, always shared,
with the one for whom I deeply cared,
Her heart with mine in array.
Such be her words, such her say!”
Relentless is the carillon’s play.
The voice, appeased by the said,
In the night, the laughter spread:
“You too, fooled by her display!
Child, Take a glance, take a glance!
Through the window, now’s the chance!
Caught right in her own fate’s sway!”
Laughter spilled, a heavy weigh,
Harmony to the carillon’s play.
A glance into the cold night,
under the warm and bright light,
I see my beloved stay.
Though not lone, a figure there
A man, with hand in her hair,
At night both close, in array.
My heart stopped, my vision grey,
All to be heard, the carillon’s play.
Heart now still, the mind hollow
The body frozen, will to follow,
The will to walk with their way,
In search for answers, the matter’s cause.
Through his soul, the voice’s claws,
Dug deeper into its prey.
The despair’s silence now here to lay,
Disturbed just by the carillon’s play.
“Prophet, preacher, now I shalln’t doubt
Your words, the truth that you shout!
What shall I do, tell me, say!
I’ve lost belief, prayer dead,
I am not worthy, just as you said!
Now tell me, I’ll do then as you say!
Show me the path, the right way!”
Their shouts along the carillon’s play.
“Thou shalt rightful vengeance seek,
Until they repent, thou hear their shriek!”
The voice loud, it clear as day.
“Thee they hurt, given a scar!”
My heart, now coated in tar,
Clouded mind, the vengeance’s way,
Took a knife of heavy grey,
Malicious is the carillon’s play.
By hatred my mind taken,
My love is shattered, shaken,
I, crushed, by the hatred’s sway,
The pillar, on which it stood,
A stone, shape of cupid’s good,
Latish, late to move away,
My hand is crushed by the weigh,
Scream, with the carillon’s play.
Alone now, with voice’s laugh,
This my fate, my own behalf,
Driven by my anger’s way,
I, unworthy, took a final glance,
At my beloved and their stance,
Sorrow filled, yet in delay.
My cries, made by my dismay,
The cries beneath the carillon’s play.
Now there is no hope to be,
Cause of my own treachery,
Treachery to my love’s way.
At their depart, heard the laughing voice
Fade away, just me left to rejoice,
The fate dug by my own stray.
And the calm, had to convey:
Now silent fell the carillon’s play.