The Battle

Here I am again,
facing demons,
fighting them down,
trying to hold on.

The Army Of Memory,
and Satan,
standing with their,
spears of fear,
snaking around,
the crevasses of my brain.

Me,
standing with my voilin,
facing them all,
out numbered beyond words.
Fighting my inner coward,
I raise my bow.

This is the sign,
that says,
you are ready to fight.
The other side,
raises their spears.

I raise my left arm,
place my voilin under my chin.
Fix my fingers in their proper,
poistions on my bow,
and place it on the strings.

Playing softly,
a G minor scale,
not taking my eyes off of,
the advancing Army.

I finally reach the "E" string,
playing softer then ever,
letting my inner coward take over,
I retreat back,
farther and farther,
into my mind.

My heart drops the floor,
it is emotionless,
cold,
covered with ice,
that only one thing can melt.

I start playing,
Gavotte in G minor,
a tune with darkness in it.
Low notes,
and peircing shrills.

The Army stalks faster,
their spears jutting out at me,
seeming like they found an unknown stregth.
Faster and faster,
louder and louder,
I play my dark song.

Faster and faster,
they seem to advance,
what is happening?
Then I realize that,
every note I play,
in that song,
seems to fuel them more,
it is darkness.

I quickly change my song,
to a waltz,
a song full of notes on the "E" string,
sweet,
and soft.
Cowardess sets in again,
I become softer.

Love...
Love...
Love...

Press down hard...
Make it louder...
Fight it...

A voice tells me from somewhere.
I press down harder on my strings,
it becomes louder and louder,
full of love,
I watch as the demons fall,
cripple under loves power.

The ice on my heart melts,
and it becomes my own again.
Now it is just me standing,
I have won my battle.