In Midnight’s Gloom

In Midnight’s Gloom

When passion’s fire burns in midnight’s gloom,
A harpsichord with fervent zeal he plays,
In deep shadows, where scarlet poppies bloom,
His fingers dance through velvet, starlit haze.

He sips his wine and dreams in vapors sweet,
With leaves of green that in his satchel lie,
His heart, a galleon wrecked on coral reef,
Drifts unmanned beneath a raven’s sky.

No doll’s soft gaze can bid his cheek to flame,
Nor wakes endure where mirth and madness reign,
Clad in a motley cloak of jesting fame,
He pounds the keys, a tempest’s fierce refrain.

His soul, a riddle wrapped in smoke’s embrace,
Blazes volcanic, yet with tranquil grace.