The strings are the things that bind
thumping pounding rhythms
bodies twisting and writhing
the gentle pain of fingers
guiding the flow
five become one
creating this ungodly song
haunting,flowing,changing and growing
the music drips from us
like sweat falling to the ground
playing for hours
finally we fall
one by one
until only silence remains
satisfied
we stand
exchange good byes
knowing tomorrow
we begin again
Copyright 2004 NomadicDreamer
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