Weep

Softly,
My cello weeps,
Notes of sorrow,
Dripping from the bow,
Fingers ache,
Burn and blister,
A sacrifice of pain,
Given to the night,
A Cleansing fire,
Penitence,
For the heart,
That killed hope…
Hands are wet,
Apon the neck,
And I dare not look,
If it is blood,
Or tears,
That mix,
With strings lament.

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