What Happens Next
What happens next will amaze you. Surprise you. Astound you. You will be left to warm resonating shards of glass all singing a symphony of echoing angels, melted
together to make a pear-shaped vase of flowery tear-dropped sunset nights and days, weeks, years of sunshine.
These are what which your grandmother has spoken, of which you simply are too little of hope to hear.
You are tears.
I am broken and bought, only to be broken again.
What life can this bring, this hopeful joy which is a life for my next life.
I want this life to show me these things of which heaven has given us, a world we live in which simply falls from the sky into a burning pit of molten stretching
burning red hot to the touch, i touch it and it warms my fingers before it burns my face and my soul.
Singing angels of symphonies, once played and loved, enjoyed, a heart sustained by the chords of so many living, breathing, active minds all geared towards the one
simple hope of bringing us nearer to the magical place which is symphonic harmonic unity of resonating bodies in unison.
Unity. Infinity. The music plays on.
And so we find ourselves back to square one, back to a place upon which one day, one fateful day, the music was met with deadness of hearts beating no more. The wall. Of people.
I remember so tearfully
I remember the day my music died.