Love Worn
My, my hands have grown cold,
Dancing over the black and white keys,
Stiff and rebellious, resenting each note,
The same music they once yearned for,
They now protest to please.
The rejected keys I retire to bed,
Secure in red velvet's embrace.
How amusing our minds refusal is,
To believe that such a child of the mind,
May rule from such a soulful place.
Beyond understanding and control,
Passion and indifference all combine.
Toying with our hearts. Twisting our guts.
Capturing moments, defining them.
Immortal, it watches it's lovers die.
In four white spaces and five black lines.
Truths may struggle against lies,
Giggles caress anguished screams,
All love letters and notes sung free,
By these faithful, strung keys.
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