a bitter blade's first cut
will never be its last
a self-fulfilling prophecy
an echo of the past

its song still makes me sing
a whisper hardly missed
remembering the harmonies
retaining my clenched fists

there are too many broken strings
to play another song
still the music swells inside my walls
it's not a question to play along

I'd be more afraid if the music stopped
what if I forget all the words?
memories deafened through roaring silence
unsure of melodies I'd misheard

I still hear its hum inside my head
as hard as I try to forget
a question of whether it's now or forever
undoubted, hard-earned regret