We live in a musical life.
From the moment we wake
Until the hour we sleep.
Our minds converge in different ways,
Whether in ballads, love songs of yore,
Elongated lines performed,
Or short pieces infused with ferocity,
Our lives are scripted,
We do have free will
But we are also limited
By what fate allows
I think often in soundtracks,
A rhythm, a melody,
A lyric, a bass-line,
Some distorted atrocity,
My mind begins to waft,
I see movements and actions,
Tempers and reactions,
Each choreographed to the beat,
In such occurrences
It’s the music that moves me,
A soundtrack controlling me
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