serenade away, reaching around home

Hark, stop your tracks and listen,
For you will trance upon the sweet serenade
Of angels shedding crystal drops of tears,
Flowing silently into the moonlit reflected lake.

I stand in awe at the depth of sadness
That seems to transcend all worldly superficiality.
The beauty of the night, mirrored by my lack of presence
Perfects the serenity of inner turmoil.

Who am I to be so bold and break the silence?
The sword I wield disobeys my command,
as does my pen shed her blood no longer,
for no one must hear my anguish, no one must know.

Across the lake, all I see is a dark horizon,
Failing to inspire any hope or confidence in my soul.
It is a bare soul, an empty soul that should not live for long,
Desecrating into nothingness, along with the night to day.

Beyond that darkness, somewhere my lady stands.
Alas! for me she does not stand and wonder,
For her captain which i can never be,
As black is to white, and the moon to the sun.

Alone i stand in tranquility in the soft murmur of the sea,
As a nightingale in the distant tells me of silence,
And an inner joyance long not aflamed within myself.
A cold, bitter wind encapsulates me.