the wise old hobbly lady called herself "time"...

strings that sang..

The strings that sang

Could that hand hold a knife

Irony it seemed to rang

Guilty! Hammered the judge    

Death of the music fingers

Heart trapper they called him

Charming he was, to all his well-wishers

Was it.. is he.. could he be???

Harsh words seemed so much harsher

Unbelievable had to be believed

Why would he? Whispered some.

“Such a talented boy” his grandmother had said

But he did wrong they all webbed.

“OH! Sweet child of mine!” screamed his mother.

Could sweetness be so brutal???thought his father.

He said nothing to the world just hummed a tune..

Just didn’t matter anymore for his faith had gone

Annihilated by a women he most loved.

He plucked those sweet notes till life was in those fingers

The stage, the rope..

Irony again came sailing in it’s boat

Never had it been empty, and the curtains drawn

Ending it all from where it had begun    

The world for once saw a melodious death

The rope tugged
And the tune played

“twang” the note reverberated through the empty hall

Melody from the last twitch of “those fingers”.....

the one place you don't want to be is always the place you are in!