Bittersweet Lullabies

O' listen—hear her music drone, so deep in feeling, rich in tone.
Let it touch you, there, all alone— feel each strained string stretch and groan.
The violinist, she’s a pro, she knows the ways cruel currents blow.
Her sad refrains waft to and fro, with each long draw of maple bow.
 
Her music lulls you into bed, try to resist, you will, instead,
find your own journey lies ahead; as sweet sounds swim inside your head.
No matter where you are to go—to Heaven’s heights—Hell fires, below,
the music wafts so soft—so slow—weaves goodbyes in warm afterglow.
 
The chords soon whisk your soul away, there’s nothing left to do or say.
No use in hiding, no delay—she’s come for you—and here she’ll stay.
Your journey’s done, you’re on your way, my hope for you—I plead, I pray,
you’ve entered golden gates today, instead of hearing hell hounds bray.