Fire reign when cords play;
Orange flames in raptures way.
Music of strings and screams of man;
From Heaven, from Hell, the angels ran.
Blush pink and copper tones;
Golden fleece and bare toes roam.
Perch and statured on the Earth;
Fingers pluck at all with worth.
“I am sorry, I wish no harm,”
She meekly says with outstretched arms.
“My strings must play when time is nigh;
It moves through the Earth and through the sky.”
“It burns through the ether, above and below;
Cleansing Olympus and the river Charon rows.
My choice can not change it, this task I must complete;
Now it shall all burn such as my music sheets.”
Music scorch the soul of all;
Touching places, big or small.
None escapes the glow so bright;
Your righteous wrong or sanctimonious right.
So come and listen to the last song play;
That brings the up and down much dismay.
Nothing survives the cords of her music sheets;
What remains is only Uncertainty.