Music

My music flows,

through my-

Human,

Sloppy,

fingers,

Over the scratches,

And the scars,

The hands of a human,

The voice of a god.

A living,

Breathing,

Flood of voices,

Singing,

Their beautiful

Glorious,

Song.

The fate of the world

Resting,

on my fingers,

Yet,

They flounce lightly,

Across the keys,

On the wings,

of a butterfly.

Music,

It fills my bones,

Lifts my spirit,

I am lost,

But I don't want,

To be found,

I am a puzzle,

But I don't want,

to be solved.

A symphony,

of one

A choir that sings,

Solo,

I speak,

through my music,

But who,

Will listen?