The crowd fades away
As chords in every melody
Rings in our ears,
And shivers downs in our body
It vibrates in every muscle
A musical fusion
Almost everything didn’t matter
It’s you, me and the beating rhythm
The graceful posture
The sway of every gesture
It’s a motion adventure.

Feeling the adrenaline pulsing through
Pervading the entity
Beating rhythm pounding, it electrifies the body
into graceful art, emancipating the sound of the music
Captivating the mind, liberating the young, reckless soul
covertly hidden inside an indifferent exterior

A freeing beauty
of movement to the rhythm
A therapy to the mind and body.
Dancing to the music,
feeling every tune
every beat
every breath of every movement,
with Explosions of Euphoria

f
   a
l
    l
i
  n
g

d
o
w
n

the rabbit

   o   l   e
h             h
o             e
l              l
  e   h   o

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Her tune craves for him to sing
with her
not at her.

When he holds her in his hands
she comes alive. His love is
made known in the motions he makes.

Actions speak louder than words.
How beautiful it was that strumming
came easier than speaking.

She wants to be learned but not many
people have time for her complex
tendencies.

And she wants to be heard but
they have all forgotten how to
listen with their eyes.

I reached out and touched
her vibrations as he played.
I cried because I understand.

What if you were my one and I let you go
I guess that's just something I will never know

Who would wear such a thing?
Who would be so despised?
So pathetic to a jeering crowd?
So utterly cursed?
So utterly shamed?
So utterly broken?

A foolish one, you say?
A liar?
A crazy one?
A sucker for punishment?
A mythological man?

How about this?

A man who would lay down his life for a friend
One who would take the place of others who really deserve what he got instead
One who demonstrates that the works of weakness truly outweigh the brutality of the mighty
One who is willing to connect the Divine to a suffering world

I say that is One who would wear a crown of thorns