Music of the Damned
Music Of The Damned
The pounding beat of a drum
The haunting call of a guitar
The woeful sound of a saxophone
A singer singing the thoughts I have
Thoughts I cannot share
All heard in the darkest of night
Alone with my thoughts and the thoughts of the singer
I hear how life is not worth living
How there is no hope
How there is no chance of a future
Depression reaches into my very soul
Tearing me apart at the seams
I listen, absorbing every word
Letting the notes control my heartbeat
My head throbs as I listen
My hand reaches to table next to me
A thin sliver of shiny metal
Sharpened by men who didn’t know how it would be used
The singer had no idea what his words could do
The last note of the song matches my last breath
My heart beats to an ever slowing beat
It stops as the drummer screams
The song ends and so have I
Just the last victim of the music of the damned
Copyright © Lord R. E. Taylor | Year Posted 2012
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