ambiance of sound

filling me,

saturating me,

vibrating through my being.

i am heavy with the music,

unable to dance,

clap,

or tap a toe.

laden with it, i am still

in its barrage.

it passes through and

it leaves me,

empty,

a shell of faint echoes.

I skip back, reliving the sensation that consumed me so thoroughly. I wait for the moment, close my eyes in anticipation. I will revel in it once more.

The sound arrives before the weighty wave, mournful strings in sharp accord with wordless phrases.

And so it falls.

It falls as a burden on my shoulders, filling every fibre of my being, as a cacophonic cliché of grandiose proportion. I shudder, I swell.

Then it passes out behind me, the woody vibrato now a stranger at my back, a thief that has left me with nothing but ghosts.

And I accept that.

RATE THIS CHAPTER!

Author guidance for This exercise

A challenge!

The guidelines for this are very loose, and I propose only two such things. First, each chapter must contain a piece of poetry alongside a piece of prose. These two must be related in some manner, such as a retelling.

Secondly, I haven't marked this as mature, and have no desire to do so. So keep it that way, eh? So for those of you who stick to stories, try your hand at poetry! Vice-versa for those poets who can't write a full sentence without a line break. I jest. Really, I do...

Cheers!
jack.

updated Apr 21 '11 by Jackerbie