Sitting home, once again in my chair; awaiting “the song” to spew from my fingertips.
Longing for the song of songs, to achieve my goal; a purpose.
Like a monk I sit there, deep into meditation, though wrapped around me waiting for the stings to
awaken and become vibrant.
As the amplifier turns on my heart races just as fast; so close to achieving the sonic lust I crave,
The tone I live for, and the feeling that I would surly die for.
Then from silence comes a roar that could only be heard, in my mind, on the grandest of battle fields;
With the loudest of war cries; alongside the sounding of the seven trumpets.
Anticipation turns into ecstasy and my drug, is hence forth shot,
right into the veins of my being and I feel, alive.
Through the darkness my eyes burn bright with passion and my body as a whole transforms;
As if ready for battle; ready for glory.
Adrenaline surges through me and for hours the clock watches me as shadows bleed through the
Window blinds from one side of the room to the other.
As time walks around me, lost with in, the flame slowly withers away in need of rest for a new day.
I sit back down, taking in I have done, lean over to turn the amplifier off and slowly sit back in my chair.
With a deep breath I lift my axe and place it back upon its throne; so that he too my rest; for tomorrow
shall be the day we reach fulfillment.
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