Your Symphony
Like the caressing of several chords,
strings waiting to be sung.
A silent haunting humanity holds its breath,
a voice unsung.
The moaning of sweet music, the water in thine eyes.
The humble kneeling in naked truth, the ending of all lies.
Let me be your instrument, let my body be wooden and hollow.
Let me sing your passion with all my heart...
and your pain, enduring, I'll swallow.
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