Inscribing an Epitaph for the King of Music
When it came to lyrics, his wit was finely tined.
His words were sharp and pointed. He had a rapier mind.
When he was at his zenith, his music was sublime.
Perfect in its sentiment, exquisite in its rhyme.
His tunes were like a river moving words along.
All the world’s fine miracles occurred in every song.
Each run an apparition that faded out of sight
just as the next melodic ghost appeared to take its bite.
His music effervescent, then thundering, then gory,
devoured all our senses, flooding us with its glory.
He raced us through emotion as though running out of time.
Each opus was a mountain, exhausting in the climb.
Then when we reached its zenith, he released us from its hold
with one brief caesura that freed us from the fold
to barrel down the mountain in one euphoric sweep—
sliding from the summit down to the deepest deep.
They scribed a single word in stone over his burial mound
to describe this musician who married words and sound
to take us all on journeys magical and euphoric,
and yet the label “Maestro,” just seems too categoric
to conjure up this genius who could transport us all
to every corner of ourselves within that massive hall.
He deserves a finer word. A more distinctive label,
but words fail me as I choose what I’d inscribe if I were able.
Prompt words today are tune, occur, apparition and zenith. Here are the links: