The bow of my thoughts,
Glides hard
on the strings
Within the chest.
Triggers a convulsion
Fatal fibrillations ensue.
‘In arrest’ go
The pulsations of peace.
The notes scatter
helter skelter
Vexing with cramps
Of violent agony.
Music, is it?
Or cacophony perhaps?
Even I can’t decipher
From the violin
Of my heart.
The Violin
June 29, 2011
Blind to Bounds 
Comments on: "The Violin" (1)
I love strings and to write of strings, they embody so much, simple strings, have you ever seen The Red Violin? ahhh beautiful writing Ilmana.