The ViolinPlay again sweet violin, Bleed your saddened notes into my ear And etch tears upon the cheeks of your admirers.The Violin
Leak melodys from your wooden frame And set them on a course across fine horse hair, Used like wire to force your voice to cry out, Choking your stringed fingers.
Your remorse, played for deaf ears, Applauded as a masterpiece without knowledge of true pain And you're propped against Master's knee as he bows to take the credit.
Sing pretty wooden bird, Echo your sorrow into the canyon of the auditorium And sound off your eagle's cry in the ha
The ViolinHe had played a fragment from Beethoven's concerto It was dark. I could only hear the violin, the bow was his soul. He was playing his life. His whole life was gliding on the strings. His lost hopes. His schorched past. He played almost as if he would never play again. When I awoke...in the daylight...I could see him... Slumped over...dead. Near him lays his violin..all bloody... smashed.... a strange overwhelming corpse....The Violin
Heeeyyy Yoouuu Guuuuuuuyyyyyyysssss :)
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