Song of The Slender Mist

The soft hum of your silver string
reverberates like brutal waves in my mind
but I don’t seek the safety of silence.
I prefer the savagery of your plucking.

 
In between the invisible words
lies my bleeding soul.
It struggled to sway
even when you sang out of sync.

 
I’d suffer to feel your fretboard shaking
I’d kneel to watch the violence of your strumming
I’d beg to get broken from your screaming
I’d die to witness the pain of your tuning

 
But playing chords that wasn’t even yours
slayed the song of the slender mist.