As The Music Plays Poem by Bernard F. Asuncion

As the music plays, a silken, flowing thread,
It weaves through moments, softly overhead.
A tapestry of sound, a vibrant, shifting hue,
Painting the air with feelings, fresh and new.

A gentle whisper from a violin's grace,
Or thunder's rumble in a rhythmic chase.
The piano's keys, a cascade, light and swift,
A story told, a heart that's been adrift.

The drums' deep pulse, a heartbeat in the night,
A primal rhythm burning ever bright.
The flute's sweet song, a bird in gentle glide,
A soaring spirit, bathed in light inside.

As the music plays, the world begins to fade,
And only melody, a sanctuary made.
A refuge found in every rising note,
Where silent feelings eloquently float.

A whispered secret in a minor key,
A joyful burst for all the world to see.
A mournful cadence where the teardrops fall,
The music mirrors, and it captures all.

As the music plays, a journey we embark,
Through landscapes painted in the fading dark.
A timeless voyage where emotions blend,
As the music plays until the very end.