Reclusive Hermitage Called Home

Songs in minor
Flowed out from the lyre,
Crash of cymbals
Seething outside through the rain.
This here a refuge for
Neither sorrow nor joy,
Just rumination
And contemplation
Of this here moment in time.

I have a time
Once before the dead of the night,
When the world stood silent
Before majestic stars,
When I felt utter isolation,
Estranged from the woes,
Exiled from the thrill
Of life in this world.
'Tis like a thief in the night
Come hither to what's mine,
Only to rob me of its company,
Denying it from me.

I look out of that window
To see the shroud of grey
Hanging thickly by the brushes
Even during the brightness of day.
I know it's there for a reason,
I know it's there in my mind,
Juddering constantly in my vision
Reminding me of my crime.