A whirl of a dervish

I relive a thousand pains
in every rib of your accordion.
Your melodies can summon the past;
my vicious, old, and hungry demon.

Those pliable fingers expose me to shadows.
I win and forfeit in the trenches of keys.
A melody of life; your highs and my lows.
Never stop playing, you make the time freeze.

A whirl of a dervish, that’s all this life is.
Born into anguish and endless spins,
with a flicker of hope that God’s tattoo
is somehow inked into this poor soul, too.

I beg of you, don’t ever stop playing
this dervish will keep whirling and swaying.
Only your keys still resemble a choice,
so it matters not if I will cry or rejoice.

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3 thoughts on “A whirl of a dervish

  1. I love the metaphors, the flow and what you’re expertly expressing in this poem.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you, Judy. That’s so kind of you. I’m really glad you liked it.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Yes, I actually read it 😀, and think it’s a great poem.

        Liked by 1 person

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