I hear the notes, I hear the noise, I know the path I go. I lose myself to song, this art that travels through my soul.

I listen to the noise, standing among the notes. I see them move, I see them shift, the sound does surround and the single light does grow, a candle in the dark, the path to walk is shown.

I follow the path, through places new and old. Through the stories others have told, with note and noise and beaten path, to show the listener down which path to go. I travel the woods, fly through the sky, I know this story, though it’s not my own.

The noise does stop, the song does end, the story told but I yearn for it all the more.

So I turn the volume up, and continue down the path I know, while I start the song again.


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