Lyrical Pain

In a cold, nameless city, where the rush of bodies continuously echoes the industrial heartbeat rattling the rusting iron dreams on every single busy road, cracked side walk, and damp, forbidding alleyway. On a plain, nameless street is a grey nameless building, vibrating with the anticipation of the unfamiliar warmth of satisfaction never given to this place the building sadly calls home. But, in that rattling building on a dusty, but weakly promising stage is an eager dreamer sitting on a stool blinking through a blinding, pale, spotlight. Her tiny hands reach for her wooden, hollow heart and begin to tune her mind while looking out through the damp darkened air, thick with sweat and adrenaline. She clears her throat as she runs her blackened fingers down the neck preparing to fret away. Using her desire as her metronome, she starts to pick away at her pain while her heart began to whine, cry, and scream her silenced mind through the suddenly thin and dry air.  As she did this, she told every single soul in that plain nameless building, one by one, her dream of being heard and her struggle to find a name and right then, every second of her youth she wasted strumming away was replaced with a minute of her voice piercing the life time of silence.