writing Symphony of the broken

[Finesthour 7,287]

Feel the sweat that forms on your brow,

The music that plays softens the sound.

For the symphony of the broken plays for us now,

The ending of which you will find astound.

 

The violin hums its tune,

The tempo of it all becoming quick.

The ending will be upon us soon,

One of us down like a brick.

 

The symphony tells its tale of the lie,

The story of what was meant to be.

Now one of us is left to cry,

The other unaware of what to see.

 

Broken now is what I am,

Though you probably wouldn't care.

You left me to destroy my dam,

Hoping to find something to tear.

 

As the symphony comes to the end,

I wonder what should I should of done.

If I wouldn't of clicked send,

I wonder what could of been.

Edited April 13, 2013 by Akari