Poetry
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Music

Music
Undefined and individual
Overwhelming and controlling
Like a puppet master with his marionettes
Its strings pull and guide us
Our thoughts, our emotions, our lives
One chord is a thousand adjectives
Some charge, some come sneaking, some lay in ambush
But all attack and all take prisoners
Forceful sensations rebel against the air
Leaving huge wakes
Waves that lift our helpless spirits up to a pinnacle
And then, with a twitch of the conductorís hand, pull us down
The hopeless feeling of sinking surrounds us
Frantically, instinctively, we grope in darkness
For anything to latch on to
Anything to pull us back to the top
Unsuccessfully we gulp for air
To soothe our burning lungs
But through we know itís there
Our paralyzed lungs refuse to take it in
Helpless
Our world is spinning and our hands are tied
The cement on our feet pulls us faster and faster
As the currents toss us around ruthlessly
The bottomless darkness draws nearer and nearer
The breath of the abyss sparks heat in the body
The music ends and the air comes
Sighs of relief echo through the mind
As slow waves lightly brush the shore
Growing steadily fainter
Until they drift into nothingness
The man in the next seat smiles a ray of pure pleasure
He couldnít have enjoyed that
But then again he could
This is music