Dismay

There is a voice that calls from far away
and I can feel the sound which ripples deep
into my heart. A moment gone astray
but only to return to my same keep.
The music that I hear both seeps and sings
a verse eternal, a nocturnal call;
whenever it arrives there are no strings
restraining from the past, nothing at all.
Though it is sweet, it often sounds forlorn,
for if its melody can warm, it hurts;
a painful chant is weeping when it's born
into the light of day, which shade asserts.
No matter what the magic may proclaim,
it shall forever have dismay at aim.