What a sensation
to have a ribbon between your fingers;
it flutters and bends at your whim,
it's graceful and elegant no matter how tight the knot.
As soft as the threads that hold it together,
remove a seam and it all falls apart -
descending like unkempt hair
that waves and spills
over a hermit heart.

What a feeling to hold a pen;
like God molding Adam's rib
into the most innocent
yet corruptible
being -
the creation's breathe
and it sounds like the scratch of pen-point on paper.

Undefined character arcs wait at the
mercy of the next line,
the next stroke.

What a sensation
to be flooded with sound,
yet deaf to anything on the outside.
The lyrics and sounds -
recited perfectly year after year -
change their meanings
and morph the mind
every
single
time
the beat penetrates the void.

This moment is a song,
and you're the next note,
but this song won't repeat.

What a feeling to have,
What a feeling to have...

Control.