Taunt fingers touch the strings
All musings of pain forgotten
Weightlessly they float over and again
In a delicate repetitious pattern


An effort to drill out all other thoughts
Nothing else is said or done
Only music can be heard
The steady rhythm of a master


Although it is a sweet melody
They make a solemn sound
It influences this atmosphere
To that of an eerie silence


A bittersweet symphony
It embodies the emptiness
Of her vacant emotions
And black stare of the eye


Nothing changes except the tempo
Her fingers dance more rapidly now
But I cannot feel a mounting excitement
There is no connection of string and soul


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741