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Replying to a comment on:
The Mellifluous Sound of God: Musical Eden (Free verse) by Don-Quixote
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I wish to tell the story
explaining the day I experienced
the joy of Musical Eden.
It was a golden afternoon
when I stood in that garage,
its air warm and humid.
The stage had a drummer and one guitarist
in front of a microphone. He held something
that he called a piano guitar, a secret instrument.
It was an electric guitar with
piano wire tuned perfectly
to sing the exquisite melancholy
of the supernatural.
It was a drug synthesized into sound,
delivered via the ear to be absorbed
by my brain.
Emotions of a thousand different spirits
coursed through my mind, flashing images
across my souls theatre.
Phantasmagoric reality was injected
into my universe, the melody crafted
by a mad genius who studied the religion
of sound.
This music seeped into the ground
and breathed life into the dead,
causing them to dance in their
pine coffins that rot for the rest
of time.
Earth holds decomposing flesh;
hidden pain desperately buried
in an attempt to forget what was lost.
The singer was unreal, a holy ghost
scorching the dreams of sleepers
that try to escape their world.
He was a messiah preaching with
rock and roll, folk, and techno disco,
radically broadcasting the human spirit
in waves fluxing through the air,
delivering the words of the wise,
the understanding of knowledge sought
but not studied.
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