Wednesday, June 11, 2008

The Call of Evil

The violin strains softly into the night
Wailing out emotions its player into it has infused
The bow rubs across the strings held upright
Sometimes slow, sometimes fast the notes effuse
As we slowly try to hear out this ghostly night

What does he play, we do not know anything
But for the fact that the notes that he raises from the else dead strings
Hit my conscience to the deepest core
Pointing out within myself, chinks in the image I present afore

The moon, it seems, hangs over us, frozen as it stands in its place
Spellbound as though it is, netted in the fine mesh of the way
the notes have been weaved together
Mesmerizing us, making each one of us rooted in their allotted place

To the very core these delicate threads of notes whip me
As pain surfaces in my eyes as tears, and I wipe them away
Even as the notes of the violin makes the bad in me shiver violently
And I sit transfixed to my chair, the violin trapping me in its way

Time stands witness to this encore, failing to seep through the hourglass neck
As the evil sense rises, shattering myths of the existence of good like never before
Malice and rumor run for cover aboard the deck
of human emotions, hither-thither, which never reaches its destined shores
The cascades of vice fall forcefully down on us
Trying to escape the four walls of music
That pulls them out and just thrashes
Until they turn numb, senseless to me

Shaken me to the very core has this enchanting melody
That spews sweet hemlock of the five senses and the soul
Writhing them, making them gasp for breath
Twisting their arms, crushing them like dried leaves

I fall to the ground, tears of guilt and conscience in my eyes
As the violinist takes his bow, leaving his audience mesmerized
Not a single clap, not a single utterance of praise
As everyone sits rooted to the spot
Having felt the call of evil
Reach out for them with its full might

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