Seren VonStein

6 November 1998

In Concert

What is the point of reaching out
When you don't want to reach?
I felt bereft of your presence,
An awning between us so wide
It would never be breached.

You leave,
You return,
Leave once more,
Only to return another time.

What do you want with me,
Do I mean so little
You would drag my heartstrings
Tangled up with the last threads of sanity
Stuck to the bottom of your shoe?

This is not a time I will chase after you.
My heart races alongside your footsteps,
Yet my feet are still to the ground.
My heartstrings thrum with the music
That flows in my blood,
The drums in my heart,
The voice in my throat.

Love has always felt like music to me,
A strumming lyricality
To the song of laughter
And the notes of love.
My heart is the songwriter,
But my mind is the singer,
And I refuse to allow this one-half of a hymn
To continue when it would become a lament.

A duet cannot be sang with one person,
As a hymn cannot be so beautiful
If there is no substance in which to compose.
An arrangement cannot fall
into a discord so chaotic it ceases to be beautiful.

I cannot chase after the drums my heart beats out
For the drummer to play them joined another concert.
I'll wait on my lonesome for another score,
Retuning my instruments to suit me,
So that one day I will have put
The remnants of the crescendos,
The the steady thump of my drums,
The very soul in my music
Into a duet to that will remain
Until the score comes to an end.
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