Monday, February 15, 2010

Music Box

I grave my soul and heart,
and put them in a music box,
I gently place them, hollow and flesh,
and make the tunes start.

I tremble as I hold it,
It weighs way too much,
It's dripping with crimson sorrow,
And is playing a song of lust.

And then I open,
The sealed-up box,
Rusted and cracked around the frame,
I find them rotten, my soul and heart,
Yet still playing the same.

I touch my chest,
A darkened hole I feel,
I close the music box,
And by its side I kneel.

I pray, I cry,
Then I hold it up,
And throw it into the sea.

Then wipe my tears,
And start walking,
To where they call for me.



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