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Description
If music does not
sustain my resonating heart
(the sound a soothing vibrato
reminiscent of an old violin),
why do I weep when
melody and harmony pluck at my soul:
lightly strumming the strings
on this harp of a spirit within me?

Why, when visions of
alternate future scenes float past
my mind's eye (ghosts haunting
my dreams) do my thoughts
scream rebellion
(I can hear no other sounds but
the shrill howling of these hurricane winds)?
Why does my heart lose it's
rhythm, as if some fiery grasp
was suffocating my hopes and dreams
right from the source,
squeezing,
           crushing,
                   pulverizing...?
Why does darkness descend
upon my eyes, the heavy clouds
forbidding the leaping joy a
lively tune revives within me
as it places the heavens' reflection
into my irises?
Why does my life creep away,
dying down like the last remnants
of a melody...echoing to the
far corners of darkness before,
finally, it is extinguished?

It cannot be that music
holds no place in my future
when every part of my being
clings to it: the sturdy harnass
my only safety, keeping me from
falling,
     plummeting
to depths unknown...

My body is an empty vessel
without it: a glass without liquid,
a plate without food, a mind without a heart

A heart...

              Without a soul...

Description
If music does not
sustain my resonating heart
(the sound a soothing vibrato
reminiscent of an old violin),
why do I weep when
melody and harmony pluck at my soul:
lightly strumming the strings
on this harp of a spirit within me?

Why, when visions of
alternate future scenes float past
my mind's eye (ghosts haunting
my dreams) do my thoughts
scream rebellion
(I can hear no other sounds but
the shrill howling of these hurricane winds)?
Why does my heart lose it's
rhythm, as if some fiery grasp
was suffocating my hopes and dreams
right from the source,
squeezing,
           crushing,
                   pulverizing...?
Why does darkness descend
upon my eyes, the heavy clouds
forbidding the leaping joy a
lively tune revives within me
as it places the heavens' reflection
into my irises?
Why does my life creep away,
dying down like the last remnants
of a melody...echoing to the
far corners of darkness before,
finally, it is extinguished?

It cannot be that music
holds no place in my future
when every part of my being
clings to it: the sturdy harnass
my only safety, keeping me from
falling,
     plummeting
to depths unknown...

My body is an empty vessel
without it: a glass without liquid,
a plate without food, a mind without a heart

A heart...

              Without a soul...