From the keys,
And drums a tuneless beat,
Into me.
So when I try and play,
The only sound, is the echo
Of an empty space, on
Shaky ground.
And when my fingers let go,
The silence starts to take action,
It follows me, the sickening stroke
Of sadness, its clinging caress
Up through my arms, and
It holds me, it hugs me to itself,
And with its wordless voice,
It sings to me, and it promises me
That I can stop, lose, and collapse
Into the recess.
And I sink into it,
And it is now everything,
The return to being speechless,
The regression in full swing, from flesh to stone
Knowing I will reach less, now deaf to the phone,
Not hearing the future's faint ring.
No more fear of fault,
Mistakes I make start to decay,
All put to a halt,
When there is nothing that I say.
And all the noiselessness,
It can be kept away, my frightened fingers,
Where the fight once hid,
But now no courage lingers, as
They close the lid,
On the mute piano.
