Where Music Bleeds Fire

A rhythm fueled explosion of thought, where music carves silence and detonates the soul.

Strings hum low,
One
rhythm becomes breath,
beat.
Pulsing with memory,
echoes in cathedral bones, we
vibrate
with silence, music carves the
soul, leaves notes like
fire.
I don’t bleed ink, I
detonate thoughts unheard, melodies
split reason, shattered glass harmonies
rise and fall through dusk.
Chords like thunder crash beyond sound.