Rhythm of Your Song

-
I can't dance alone anymore
I'm swaying on the ropes
Sleeves trailing through the air

Your harmony completes me
Your song is my backdrop
I just can't find your voice

I know you're there
Somewhere where I can't see
Your harmony is always sweet

I'm still dancing alone
But I'm dancing to your melody
I don't feel so lost

I hum to your tune
The rhythm of your song
It's just a solo, not a duet

If you heard me
Can you play a little louder?
I can't quite seem to hear you
Amidst all the static.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Sfumato or the Mosaic

-
The melting pot the nation of the out and the in people with almond eye with the ebony skin with hair of gold with hands of white do they mix into a flag of many colors or do they segregate into blocky separates where the canvas is a mosaic divided and yet a whole picture or is it a sfumato where everything blends and nothing is individual but it's a color unlike any the world has ever seen?
Read more

Pathos

-
So the equilibrium is no more The surface tension has been broken What was once the glory days Is now nothing more than memory And filtered photos on your phone How often do you look at those I wonder And wish for when hearts were untouched by paranoia? I can't say when the frost began creeping in Seizing your soul and rendering you immobile To the machinations of inevitable separation We were too much like flint and flint Grinding against each other Until the sparks began to fly You took it too far and they were terrified Of seeing the monster inside the darkness that was you They say that it was a forgivable misstep And they smile and soothe but their eyes aren't quite meeting yours And the sinking of your heart is like an axe head in water Only there is no one to make it resurface again Their path diverges from yours It's a split road, one leading into an endless plain They say that you can't follow, and they hold you clos
Read more

attainment

-
 sometimes the gold is in the pan already there and nugget-like I can just bite down and make an impression Indent and imprint to make a mark to mark make But I feel even my most feeble attempts  will be as inconsequential as those furrows left in the ocean's sand shaking the silt just to tell a fortune already grasped but in the meantime i will chew the pulp  and wonder for soup. 
Read more