THE MUSIC WHISPERS

I make sure everyone can hear my songs,

I won't let myself pass away here by myself.

With my red-stained keys, I sing a tune.

comprised of unhealed scars and bones.

People judged me as though I am not a human at all,

It fills my head with a song unheard of.

It makes me feel as though,

I am never good enough.

But sometimes,

I am not alone.

With these monsters that carved out my soul.

Oh, how I wish,

I was better at this.

But they, marked me letting everyone know I am theirs.

The music is so gentle,

I frequently overlook the imaginative universe in which I reside.

Cause the reality is just too much for me.

Too much for me to bare.

I sit with crimson-red stains on my piano keys,

Never thought of looking forward to the bittersweetness of it all.

Their echoes can be heard among those wolves,

The howling wolves serve as a reminder,

that my time of death is drawing near.