Melody



The Melody captures me.
It makes me move.
Makes me stumble.

It reaches my eardrums,
And makes my body resonate.
It is almighty, yet inferior.

It sooths you to sleep,
And wakes you up,
Like thunder in the night.

It makes you connect,
And have your likes and dislikes,
Favourites, and non-favourites.

The Melody has many ways.
It can be slow, and confident,
Or fast, and afraid of mistakes.

It can kill any other melodies,
Or become a become a victim itself.
It lives of survival.

The Melody can create music,
And through this music,
It can make an eternal silence.

The Melody can be enhanced.
The shouting of voices,
And the pounding of feet.

It can alert you, and call for you.
It can frighten you, and scare you away.
It follows it's own will, neglecting those of others.

The Melody can be created in many ways.
It can be a flute, a piano, or a choir.
It can be a Lullaby, an opera, and even a rock show.

The Melody cuts through all nerves.
It changes people's lives,
And changes personalities.

It is the cause of the biggest arguments,
but also the cause of the make-up afterwards,
And the connection in the first place.

It can effect the brain,
And pick your friends.
Even those, you would never have chosen.

It can make you take the wrong path,
And make you look back in vain,
Wishing the result would've been different.

It can change your life,
And make it as beautiful as Heaven,
Or as dark as Hell.

The Melody can create mass-suicides,
Cause total destruction,
And leave nothing put emptiness.

It creates love and hate,
One more than the other,
But it always repeats at the end.

Your Melody can make you happy,
Until the end of your days,
And even after this.

Your Melody can also crush you,
Make you cry your way out,
Until the black shroud surrounds you.


Be aware of it.
There are many different ones,
But the Melody,
Isn't always your friend.




Alpha And Omega