My Soul Is Dark
from Byron's poem, stanza 1
My soul is dark -
I cannot sleep, because I dream
and when I dream then comes the scream
that ruins my rest, and ruins my day,
wishing it would run away.
Oh! quickly string The harp
The golden strings that sound so fair
There is beauty on the air,
but I can't play nor read the score;
if only I had learned before.
I yet can brook to hear;
A pin dropping in a silent room,
something to break through the gloom
If I strain, I just might find
the sound of silence, and peace of mind.
And let thy gentle fingers
When I close my eyes, I almost feel
the touch of your hand, seems so real
as I watch that trembling rush
of heat that comes when fingers brush.
fling Its melting murmurs o'er mine ear.
Your voice resonates, in harp and song,
and I remember nights that were long,
whispering sweet nothings in the air
as the music flows on without care.
If in this heart
What is a heart, what is a soul?
With or without, I'm never whole
and so I lie awake in bed
trying to match my heart with head.
a hope be dear,
To be young again, to laugh and play,
to sit beneath the golden rays
of the sun I used to hail
when life was free from pain and bale.
That sound shall charm it forth again:
Sticks and stones were magic words
Every day might seem absurd
to those who'd given up on youth
and fallen prey to earthen truth.
If in these eyes
A mix of blue and violet, green,
a beautiful storm, sometimes obscene
You looked at me with such delight
yet now, all I can see is spite.
there lurk a tear,
I cry for love, I cry for me,
I rain for things that cannot be
If this is what my dreams are from
I'll drown them out, and strike them dumb.
'Twill flow,
Swiftly passing planets lie,
waiting for someone to die
and drift across the River Styx;
a single life is eighty-six.
and cease to burn my brain.
Ashes will fall from a young one's tower
All dreams wither, as a flower,
never to rise, or see the day;
My soul is dark, and thus will stay.
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