She knew not how to begin
Brittle sweat dripping down her skin
Reaching for a gift known as a friend
Blowing sounds through thick and thin

She shared the beauty of the violin
expressing  deep hidden  thoughts within
Exposing her perfection
The beauty from lack of sin

She sat on the edge of the sore
Gently blow upon without the whisper of a word
Without the sound of a mockingbird
Only blurry sounds she wished was unheard

Music gave her a reason to live
A reason to be brave
It is the reason She forgave
The reason she is a slave
The reason she dug her own grave

Her life would finally began
Running fast toward the sun
But it would still be undone
She would never be forgotten