I hear more than my voice in those songs,
Somewhere, in between the screams,
A symphony would come to life and sing along.
I would stop, and wait for the wind to hit me,
But without the screams, I was alone,
So, I kept screaming till the verses came to live,
And heal the scars from the last night.
Many years and each night, so hollow,
A void within the blood, the rage I had to swallow.
With every single needle of the poison,
The blood would rush to the shore,
Where I could hold the melodious lore.
She would stay and enchant her rhymes,
But when the sun could burn the flesh,
She would die in agony of the screams and rest.
The poison had flushed my veins,
The music stayed, the blood is slowing down with grace,
Soon, I shall burn the sun,
As the ocean of the poison has overcome.
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