music : my soul
music : my soul
An adrenaline rush like no other
Fear, anxiety and pressure on an accelerated course together
A need to perform, a need to please
Beads of sweat roll down his sleeve
Players in waiting call out to him
Making his heart surge and nearly striking him dead
A slow march, thoughts speeding, confusion pleading
Begging to recede
“Run while you can, beyond the gate lies more than time can heal”
A shrug, a gentle wave, a spark of hope, that need to play.
Plectrum in hand he lifts on to the stage
The crowd awaiting his mighty fists of rage
One tiny glimpse
And it’s all a haze
The shouting and screaming
Them chorusing his name
A shudder of excitement
That tingling he craves.
His guitar in hand. He begins to play
That gentle sound, that soothing sway
The brush of his fingers against the fret board, creates a rage
An uncontrolled crowd mesmerized by his ways
Join in the chorus, still screaming his name.
Insanity controls him, as he plays,
For he reaches a place, no sane man can taint.
Supernatural, he seems, in a trance, they would say
As the his heavenly voice joins in, accompanying the base.
The women, they faint, screaming their praise,
In a worshipping trance, they seem so spaced.
And then as if awakened
He walks up to them, the bridge to play.
His voice so mystical yet so rich and brave
Singing his sweet melody
In rapture he says
‘Look at me love.’ So steady his gaze. ‘Stay with me today’
‘For if stand alone, I will die in this fray’
The drums come alive, with every played beat
His guitar sending tonight his soul, sealing his fate.
His passion, his love, his family, his mate
His life, his heart his death it shall take
In finale his voice suddenly screams
‘Tonight my love, I have conquered,
Tonight I shall sleep’.
As he drowns out the crowd,
The victory he sees.
The love, the pain not in vain it seems.
Head held high he walks of the stage.
The crowd still roars,
Still screaming his name.
Copyright © Amanda Miller