The music flows covering my woes,
the sound, pure as raindrops
on oil.
Filth diminished as Your eyes glare through the sound.
Colours brighten as the light rises upon,
beauty revealed with the beating drum,
life so much greater than lust.
The music goes.
My eyes wonder at a flower.
Attracted, ensnared, engulfed by its power,
I forget the sound.
My woes rebound.
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