The Last Symphony

He plays the flute as a daily ritual
Complementing the sound of her trinkets
The melody resonates in perfect symphony
With the glowing radiance of the morning beams.

She walks towards the gigantic door,
Stopping once before she goes within
Turning back, she looks at him
Smiling silently, full of dreams…

As the sun reaches its zenith,
He goes in for a refreshing drink
But nothing revives him more
Than hearing his lady love sing.

Her voice is what he lives for
He yearns to play the flute along
But forbidden ties hold him back
Thwarting his cherished dreams asunder...

She covers her head as she emerges
Gently closing the door behind
Her eyes look for him searchingly
Innocently hoping to catch his smile.

She is hypnotised by the dulcet notes
And walks guardedly on the ground
He is playing the flute once again
Completely oblivious of his surrounds.

She breaks into a magnificent melody
The air resonating with subtle romance
As his notes match her every word
They create a bohemian rhapsody…

Both had traversed the perilous borders
Created by the senseless world outside
Too soon their people discover them
And destroy their songful cadence.

It was a brutal clash of interests
That led to a sorry state indeed
They grabbed her ruthlessly by the hair
And lashed him for his temerity.

As they bled to death that night
Under the star-studded firmament
They wished to thank the Lord up there
For those precious moments of love...

He shakily donned his cap
And knelt to offer his prayers
While with her last bit of strength
She joined her palms together.

Looking at each other one last time
They finally rested in eternal sleep
Her trinkets entwining his flute
In perfect symphony…