Melancholic strains fill the air
For one who cannot hear the sounds
Of joy and laughter, love and care.
The vibrations of a weeping soul
Tremble at their unfamiliar touch.
But sometimes sorrow turns to hate
Of those who only try to help
And lift the tortures of his weight.
Did man ever learn to try alone
And survive the building crashing down?
Tell me where the hurt can hide, yes,
Tell me where it goes, so I can
Sleep when all the monsters cry. Let's
Run away now while we can, for too
Dragons must feel even with their strength.
But the music that their fingers
Play is too much to ignore, when
All the other sounds fade away.
Darkness comes again. Can I just say
"I love you," or is that too much to ask?
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