writing to music

those who don’t sing don’t know those who don’t play don’t feel the exhileration of perfection when harmonies align like planets melodies intertwining darting in and out like finches in a forest when it reaches that point you simply know and every fibre feels the soul being pulled to a new level

Written by

those who don’t sing

don’t know

those who don’t play

don’t feel

the exhileration of perfection

when harmonies align like planets

melodies intertwining

darting in and out

like finches in a forest

when it reaches that point

you simply know

and every fibre feels

the soul being pulled to a new level

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