For surmise of thee in turn; toward the devilish sky,
In a rhapsodically musical yearn, I turn away shy.
Listen to the music, in behind the light.
Its notes are therapeutic, when taking flight.
It fills the empty spaces, between two deaf ears,
And solemnly replaces, the crowds adoring cheers.
Be not to shine in heaven, but listen to the wind,
As it echoes through the ages, giving kind, sway of sin.
My mind it dances softly, as she sings her sweet, sweet chords,
I try to take it awfully, closer to the storm.
As rhythm, pitch and timing, mingle all my senses.
With words forever rhyming, sung with soft intentions.