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Description
He spread his heart,
As a string on the violin,
Of black rose wood.

He stuffed his voice,
And let it through the wood,
To flow and freeze like smoke.

With his hand, he petted his soul,
And from it’s light,
He made a bow.

Then struck hard over heart strings,
So they would cry under torn skies,
And tare them down whole apart.

And what mad man asked,
Why the violin strings,
Began to bleed...

Description
He spread his heart,
As a string on the violin,
Of black rose wood.

He stuffed his voice,
And let it through the wood,
To flow and freeze like smoke.

With his hand, he petted his soul,
And from it’s light,
He made a bow.

Then struck hard over heart strings,
So they would cry under torn skies,
And tare them down whole apart.

And what mad man asked,
Why the violin strings,
Began to bleed...