A Sob Story

A music man sits idle,

Content to fiddle his broken violin.

An eerie symphony glides along the passageways,

Passes along the depths of my soul.

A weary sob arises.

An unwilling cry,

A hopeless longing,

An eternal desire,

But then so immensely scorned.

A haunting melody fills the air,

Just like a wounded bird

Whose cry dies deep in his heart,

So does I arise.

Only to fall back in the shadows

Despised.

On my own,

I grieve.

((( asheil.august 5, 2011.friday.1650hrs.)))