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Rated: · Poetry · Other · #1782409
Music is another language with it's own writing and rules.
Violin ink
Beautiful notes fell from my fingertips, dragging across the emptiness. The violin’s soul sang out harmonizing with my heart and singing to the silent world. Words formed from the soothing sound creating an almost tangible joy. My hands sang with the violin like paper and ink permanently engraving words into the smooth blank air.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1782409