11. ECHOES IN EMPTY SPACES

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For the second part of this piece
Check my Instagram page @_aangrron in collaboration with @makeisha_reina and @januaryriver


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The sound of music, my metaphor for love
The composer, I, who plays his final stave
Keys split, the sound no longer sustained
Beats thudding, the percussion notes refrained
My heart, harp strings now broke
Strung silently tug pain and loss spoke
My mind, the singer without a voice
Reverbs the lonely symphony, his only choice
Outside, the tongues and ears of the crowd
Once roaring proud now booing loud
I shan't play anymore
Harmonies and chords no more
Lest the empty of my shell
Echoes them not to hell

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