Rhythm
The beats echo…
resound on the walls of my innermost cave.
The patterned sounds come and go,
come and go,
and set free my hidden-most slave.
The beats echo…
resound on the walls of my innermost cave.
The patterned sounds come and go,
come and go,
and set free my hidden-most slave.
The conductor:
painter;
sleeves chaotically dotted with a kaleidoscopic jumble of ideas gone past,
splashes bits of universal cacophony
as far as the waiting ears can see.
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