on the floor, you stood
my happy place;
strings and wood.
a plethora of stories are left to be told,
a sweet cacophony is yet to unfold.
from the parallels of your frame,
from the pit of your mundane
are melodies yet to unravel
into a montage of sweet and sour.
aberrant it is,
how you can take away all
my pain and worries
and mold them into gay and merry.
all the new tales you tell,
i strum away into neverland.
no heaven, no hell
obstructing my way
I’m free to imagine my destiny.