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From bass, deep notes my mem'ry starts to bloom:
His only solace - Schubert's salving sound.
For endless days it filled the emptier room
And soothed the gnawing grief, the wid'ning wound.
A metamorphosis seemed taking place:
She and the music fused, becoming one.
He stretched as if to touch her smiling face
Then realised what he had done.
Their music soared and died: he felt bereft.
Strains tortured yet caressed his lonely soul.
Crescendoes sapp'd the strength that he had left
And soon, too soon, the sadness took its toll.
'Unfinished Symphony', unfinished life...

© Margaret Fisher, June 2009