Last Song

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I will trace out the beats of my heart,

Here on these paper parts,

The unsteady rhythm that barely keeps me going,

The constant pumping that is secretly my undoing,

The visual tapestry that I cannot for the life of me stand,

All the waves and frequencies that I do not understand.

I will write down this song that my heart sings,

Every solemn tune and the melancholy it brings,

Note by somber note till it’s all out on here,

A masterful catastrophe it is, for to no rules does it adhere,

A composition by this frail heart of mine that still beats for you,

Helpless and hopeless with nothing more to do.

I will let the music play on to its quiet end,

Until my heart can finally, slowly mend.

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