Death of music

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Against rosewood, against lust
Fingers pull a vibrato trust
Squeezing overtones out from the air
Non sequential melody fair

Sustain substantiates subtle soul
Holding full and holding all
A flight of fancy free delight
Like owls call too the moon and light

Howls the wolf ‘I’ll be back soon’
As the clouds obscure a sunken moon
Like quartet with overture
Aria will not come near

But slides into a dark polyphonic
Augment a diminished hidden relic
Lays to dust and lays to rest
A minim all incest

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