Graceful hands
Strum familiar tunes
Melodies etched
On histories tombs
A life once vibrant
Now dust to the wind-
Yet, the music lives on
As the old man sings.
Each note- every stanza
A journey he takes
Memories revisited
His heart, it breaks.
Bones now brittle
And lifeless within
Lost loves revived-
Forever to haunt him.
The past to reality
Today, but a dream
So, onward he travels
Sitting here, unseen.
Those graceful hands
Age weary and cold
Never falter nor fail, whilst
Telling his story, of old.
Now, forever you’ll hear
His beautiful song
As these graceful old hands
Will Eternally -

Strum on.



Never done this before, written on spec from a picture, was kinda fun

__________________