Violin

A not really well thought out poem. The ending isn't as strong as the beginning, I'm not sure I want to change that though.

It weeps.  Weeping for the lost and alone.  It's tears come in soft everlasting melodies that sear right through the heart.

Her fingers move delicately, tracing the notes she has played many times before.  As her bow quickens colors begin to rise from all around her.  The body which holds her moves as the song progresses and it's not longer just music.

Her soul twiddles beneath the meaning so her eyes pool with her love filled tears.  The strings hum her voice, her song, her love.  She is no longer holding an instrument, she is the instrument and her mind is playing her.

At first she seems frightened but she embraces the change and allows the music to consume her.

Everything dances around her as she moves herself across the strings.  Long strides, short strides all combined.  Her heart is the base.

The song is over, the music has stopped.

She stands, she bows, she's done.

Author's Note

Feedback, negative or positive, is much appreciated. :]