The Musician

Faint sound of the piano resonating
I heard his barely audible singing
Though his voice is now slowly fading
It still woke me at three in the morning

In my windowpane, raindrops are racing
Just another cold night in mid-September
So I asked him to sing me something
Hoping it'll put me back to my slumber

The rain had subsided, now stars aglow
His silhouette, basking in moonlight's glow
His fingers danced in the creaky piano keys
And his voice is silvery, lulling me to sleep

But his songs are blended with white lies
I can only listen as the night serenely dies
His words are poetry - simply metrical
For his emotions are purely chimerical

Devoid of any sentiment and sincerity
Compositions sung only to flatter hearts
But I still loved him greatly and dearly
Even if he only wanted to break me apart