Notes carved in a heart of stone.
You provide the words.
Perhaps this wisdom does no harm
Seeds do grow from dirt.

…Notes carved on bone
Some gilded and smooth
When most of them are torn
All notes inside a melody
But all of them forlorne

Though some of them you prided
as a part of you.
The new ones,now, of regret
deny such naive truth.
Some you wish to claim but can’t deny their myth.
Yet look again, these hyroglyphs
Still tell a tale of you.

Of love, yes loss, but the feeling’s there,
If you provide the words.
These empty notes of this old song, can now become a verse.

A verse of you,
for, Yes you’re through
But these notes do not falter,
They stay, now yours
to sing along
And decide what they stand for.

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