a broken string sets the whole thing askew,
is tension what really creates music?
the tugging of my heart strings me along,
so distrust slakens the cord;
prongs clinging but down,
like a light switch i cannot seem to find.
the chords go still,
though vocals resound around
the outside of my chest--
silence is my heart's new song.
others' only tempt me with emotion,
in their heart felt cries
i find my own solace;
a misleading catharsis.
strum the chords of tension
and sing your praise song loud--
oh the work of your hands!
that leave mine outstretched.
for my own good,
if i just had perspective;
what symphony will comfort the lonely?
what magnum opus redeems the years?
string me back up again,
and whip me with your bow--
a great tale will we make to tell,
a life lost to save one from hell.
your 99 left on the hillside,
a harp to sooth their ills.
"when it falls apart the pieces fit
but you won't see it till your blinded,
you can let it go or hold on tight
when you lose your life you will find it."
take this blindfold off my heart,
for the moment i am tired of playing my part.