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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required This violin is so small but carries like the heaviest of weights, these cascades of shapes and shades are typically a waste, and their traces are replaced by the weight the levies take, you brace for the impact but you usually faint. What once felt so safe, is erased into the waves. What you thought was a phase, seems to be a perpetual hurricane. engulfing your terrain every few years and nothing remains. If it's still somehow alive, it's always still set ablaze and the veins always eventually just simply drain. A brand new template to sit and paint but the picture always looks the same, nothing is to change; looking like the same photograph you just simply traced, as you try to deviate from the things you hate, all you know relates. This violin plays, but the beautiful sound comes out muted and plagued cracked and depraved, losing itself to its masquerade. A new chapter here to navigate, where the old may dissipate but the sounds will echo and resonate, with each new note that is played, into a melody of which he has heard for over a decade. A subtle change but the result is always very much the same This violin has never been properly tuned, so it continually gets used knocked around and bruised, so its players seem to always be excused, if not confused, at this muse that they just so happen to always choose. From honeymoons to the hope that it will hopefully improve and when it's time to finally move, the violin seems to always be the one to lose. Passed down for a penny less, a brand new second hand snatched up by the next poor soul looking for a perfect match, to give the instrument the love that it lacked. A brand new second chance, that always seems to collapse and overlap, scrap that is just re wrapped, doomed to be damned, part of the story but never part of the plan; playing the noises that will eventually tip the avalanche. This violin is a beautiful artifact, perpetually attacked but it always attracts it rarely snaps, it just adapts to the blasts. Its sound echos in laughs but this violin never forgets.
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