~ ♬⋆.˚ || Staves I’ve Found, Yet Lost.
Fingers gliding, against marble steps,
Skin so pale, dancing like legs.
Moving to the melody inside their soul,
Music seizing the opportunity whole.
Dousing their feelings through meaningful carols,
Hums vibrating as a bird’s hymn in empty hallows
Songs incanted like melancholic verses,
Their words echoing similar to gentle curses.
Beneath the instrument is a core brimmed with ardor,
Remaining in the abyss, stilling in the mist,
The soft chant softly uttered, but then the feelings getting farther,
Voice getting stiff, essence losing shift,
The hand on the ivory motioned to her chest to feel the center.
Ripping the paper, spilling ink, on the floor that used to be clean,
The composition, supposed to be to your exact taste,
Your frustration boiling up, your blood rising to your spleen,
You’re shouting: “What a haste…”, “This ugly performance, to show is such a waste!”
A drug you’re tied to, what’s it called? Jea-lou-sy.
When you see people write better than you,
Then it rises like an aphrodisiac suc-cess-ful-ly.
So what do you do? You awaken up at midnight,
A comparison to an owl ready to take flight.
You hiss as you take advantage of this vulnerable moment of the day.
Where everyone’ asleep, albeit their instincts dismay.
They sprinted, gathering the other’s works of time and skill,
“Against it!” The crowd cries out.
Although your hand and gaze sweeps with envy,
Whatever they say, you spout out.
“This is mine”, “You lie!” Accusations spread like a flame,
You steal artworks, and now fingers are pointed at the wrong fae!
“Curse on you!” “My goodness, you loo!” Insults and mockery,
And guilt pours over your soul each day rapidly.
Correct me if I’m wrong, if you wanted to be an artist, example, dear,
Would they steal and steal to become loved, no that is not what they do!
My dear, if you take what is not yours, furthermore in the future you’ll get hated,
They’ll fight and fight you, demanding that whom you stole from?
And then you’ll realize that you’d regret, and what you did is wrong!
My dear, is this what your idol would do?
Grasp an idea from another idol?
My dear, am I right? They’ll get a profile; “Problematic!” of what they do!
My dear, what I say, answer, oh, please do!
If you stole, and the truth came out of the curtains, would you want tomatoes and spouts of anger to be directed at you?
Stand up, you fool, stand up, go on!
Weren’t you the one who thought that thou being famous was fond?
Unfortunate, people who are opposed to Lady Luck.
Without opportunities given to live their life better as it was.
Some has paralyzed their arm, their leg, their thoughts and their skills hazy,
Yet they work hard for it, for their fate not to be dainty.
Look at your heroes, look up, look up!
Did they plagiarize, they’ve got their pieces from another’s pot?
Fingers, they point at people with dishonesty!
Cowardice filled your soul, stand up for your own!