Poems from the Right Brain

Weapons

Sit and stay.
Remain poised.
Collected.
This is a sacred time.

Our eyes are weary and dragged down by heavy hearts.

And yet we race,
Toward those seats,
Time after time,
Day after day.

You take hold of your weapon.
I operate mine.
And together we fight.

The magic we create,
Wards off the demons we both know so well.
A silent pact passes between us.
We'll fight for each other until the end.

My weapon a piano,
Yours is a cello.
The worthiest weapons one could have.
One that does not destroy, but overpowers.

The music we make rings out to the masses.
People stand and watch, but none of that matters.

Because it's just you and me.
My instrument and yours.
Fighting together to save ourselves,
Save each other,

From the darkness that tries to swallow us whole.
But in this moment,
We are empowered. Indestructible. Unbeatable.

For on our side,
We have each other,
And our magic,
And our music.

We look at each other.
And we smile through the demons, the insecurities, the pain that's made us who we are.

We put down our instruments,
Having rewritten ourselves,
To match that wistful, gleeful, passionate creation.
We are new and powerful.
Nothing can take us down.

That progression of notes, unplanned harmonies, will carry us through tomorrow.

Because that sweet, melodic, undiscussed love,
That pact we made,
The pain we shared,
Created a weapon that will last forever.