I’ve been moving to the same song for so long,
I’ve forgotten how to make my own melody.
Singing only cover songs that I’ve heard along the way,
trying to find my own voice again.

I found myself moving to a different sound;
one of joy, of newness and sweetness of life.
Music that has been fighting to be released, exploding now into song.
For a time I was singing in perfect harmony with the voice of angels.

Your music was your own, doomed to repetition,
stuck behind an immobile wall of fear.
Caught up in youth and crisis.
You left heaven behind, free falling into another.

Looking for harmony in others, our duet became my solo,
making our song incomplete,
sounding more like a dirge than dance.
Once, one of beauty, I now weep at the sound.