When music stops.
My heart used to sing,
Of the rapture in your arms.
Its bells rang out grandiose melodies.
The world shook around its rhythmic beat.
As you left the music stopped,
We both died a little.
Now all I can hear is soft crying in the dark.
I turned up the radio.
It blasted music through my life to cover up the cooing cries.
Sounds backed with feelings, amplified by pain
Resonate through my soul and drowned outside sounds.
Internal sounds are all that remains.
Will I ever sing again?
