This Choir Sings to Me

This choir sings to me.

Singing sadly, coldly as can be,

Expressionless and still as stone,

Beautifully somber in pitch and tone.

This choir sings to me.

If only the sound could set me free,

Lingering lyrics of long past sins,

Cancelling my sentence, it all depends.

This choir sings to me.

Like a herald or decree,

Scuffed, scarred, battered bars,

all night, always jealous of the stars.

This choir sings to me.

Wicked notes, hanging like filigree,

Will salvation dare to dread my way,

Or, will this choir keep me here to stay?