Poetic Prose : a Writer's Challenge

An exploration of written form.

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.

The End

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