3.11.08

made on 3-11-2008 4 a.m.

The air was filled with a symphony at work,
it starts
at the wave of her pen,
The first few notes stream line out;
giving out a melody
awkward and soft,
Then comes the point,
where silence rules all.
her pen stops.
she puts the end to her mouth.
she can not taste the ink
slowly seeping
filling her mouth
lulling her senses
but no
what was once known was now unknown
No melody is heard,the beat lost;

for now-

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