Music in Prison

Let me tell you a little story,

About a strangely symphonic place,

The music would resound like worry,

But I listened at leisurely pace.

Learning the notes I made my own tune,

Shaking the shackles tied in cages,

Then the clanging of metal died soon,

Down halls I had now stayed for ages.

Was it through grace of epiphany,

To which I'd been numb avoidantly,

As my old mate chained in disorder,

Finally had solace of slumber.

As my tuned spirit met light of day,

My page of notes guided me away,

I turned back to the hushed horizon,

Hoping the music still plays in prison.