08-22-2015, 06:34 AM
quote='Mark A Becker' pid='195804' dateline='1440099218']
Hey Tom- I re-inserted the Silver Cord, by addition, below:
Tears that crawl upon my cheek are
colder than my skin and taste new to me
now. Before, as music played, I felt
no deep regrets, no heightened states.
Why now, when music plays, do I find
emotion's seat? Those thoughts I thought
were dead, at this late hour, are all there
saved and salted in my mind.
I smile through strange new tears
of half-formed dreams, and see now
how the Silver Cord, will soon enough
be severed from my mortal form.
“Some enchanted evening”
I will sink into my chair of dreams,
and open up the locks, and out will pour
the raw emotions of the person
I have been, yet never truly was.
How can it be that music moved
my days a long, but all I ever was
became an old, old song?
(hope not outta line)
Hey Tom- I re-inserted the Silver Cord, by addition, below:
Tears that crawl upon my cheek are
colder than my skin and taste new to me
now. Before, as music played, I felt
no deep regrets, no heightened states.
Why now, when music plays, do I find
emotion's seat? Those thoughts I thought
were dead, at this late hour, are all there
saved and salted in my mind.
I smile through strange new tears
of half-formed dreams, and see now
how the Silver Cord, will soon enough
be severed from my mortal form.
“Some enchanted evening”
I will sink into my chair of dreams,
and open up the locks, and out will pour
the raw emotions of the person
I have been, yet never truly was.
How can it be that music moved
my days a long, but all I ever was
became an old, old song?
(hope not outta line)