The Violence

Every night she will play

By the waters glow

As the drops stream down

Her notes begin to flow

 

As lights dash to and fro

Memories erupt up

No one to hear,

No one to know

 

Like streaks across the sky

Her story fills the world

Of loss, of gain,

Of newborn and dying cries

 

Inconsistency and futility

Glide across her strings

The earth calls out with all its might

For greater things

 

The solemn ballad slows

The artist looks to the sky

The east where morning looms

And the mourning one sends notes high

 

To the heavens her unspoken prayer goes

“oh how we groan and wait!” it cries.

“release us from this bondage, this fate!”

it dies.

 

Heaven answers with a glorious release

Light pours down like riches that never cease.

Never left, nor forsaken,

The earth resigns to silence

The night song has ended, and thus begins the violence.

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