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Thursday, April 14, 2016


A man and his instrument are one
One constanly craving
The company of the other
On a sleepless night
The man finds solace in his instrument
Louder, harder, faster,
Until he can play no more
And a soft whispering breeze refreshes him
And leads him to the opening notes
Of a gypsy love song
And when he has played his soul
He sleeps where he sits
Cradling the instrument in his hands
Like a longtime lover
And finds peace
And the rest is silence

* Bit of a back story. This is the original. It had been lost. I rewrote it here. Since I found the original I thought both would be nice.