Mozart — Requiem
in D minor
Night finds me outside the cemetery gates, without recollection of travel or where I had been.
In rising of the moon I see you just the other side, behind a freshly dug grave with a headstone of Israel marble.
You seem as out of place as the stone itself. Antique gold polished slab with a name yet to be placed as your foreground, draped in crimson velvet trimmed in a black French seam.
Smiling in welcome, as if you’re expecting me; as if I am running late for an appointment.
The fog travels the grassland to greet me, opening the gate inward as if to indicate my entry.
Clearly, I am dreaming for this place does not exist in my time or town.
As I turn to leave, you call my name, asking me to join you.
The trickle of concern begins to strike my heart’s pounding.
