When the Beat Gets Beaten

No one wants to hear this song.

Discarded sheet music

trial by neglect

perpetrated oblivion

where flattened bruised and dying notes

won’t make an incriminating sound.

Lyrics lose consciousness,

unburden internal bleeds

in a world fixated on business as usual

despite building body counts of dead rhapsodies.

Apathy

tramples rotten corpses of long dead melodies,

pays a specialist team to disinfect and sanitize,

erase that nauseating putrefaction

of broken-necked scales and octaves which tried

for one last breath of prophecy belted out

having acoustics advantage

to no avail.

Until

chords rally martyred commands

of the maestro’s resurgent calls for his children.

Floods nature with refrain.

Conceives verses, gestates rhythms.

Reincarnates songs by evil slain.

Thank you so much for reading my poem! Your support is immensely important to me.

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