Velvet downpour
In minor strains, and percussion rain
Is the heartbeat under the floor.
Nonsensical words
But her soul is bare, her notes declare
A love invested and interred.
Sorrow no longer weeps
It whistles low, and coos, and flows
In the rich, deep tones from whence it steeps.
Her voice swirls like eddies
Down her chin, spilling free when
She is most unsteady.
viewingcamelot 
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