It’s beautiful. The rhythm. The instruments
blending to construct a uniform of posse-
ssing noises. The voices cascading
together to create a melody, one
quite similar to sweet dew on
flowers in the bright, early
morning. It fills you until
you feel the wonde-
rful notes within
your very being.
The tones dance a-
round you until you
are nothing but that. T-
he different feels of each
individual song are incredible.
They can either make you feel as
if anything is possible, as if there is
no greater sadness than your own,
as if you are the best thing in the w-
orld to someone, as if you are not
who you are but who you alwa-
ys wish to be, or as if even th-
e most substantial disadva-
ntages can never lift the
brilliant veil of the warm,
fuzzy happy you are
drunk on.
It’s as if
in that
one mi-
niscule m-
oment, you a-
re free of everyth-
ing and nothing could
possibly be anything oth-
er than jubilant. These chor-
ds remain in your head and you
can change them on will like a radio.
They give you a needed distraction, a
relief from the pressure, an ungodly am-
ount of confidence, or even just something
to center yourself around. The patterns make that overbearing uncertainty
melt from your mind to puddles of woe on the ground. The alluring collections of each portion make
an enchanting thing that will forever be commemorated
in the minds of others.
it's a structure poem
