Ode to my headphones.
Solitude, another world untouched by reality
a vortex of gratitude, a gift from Barachiel perhaps.
They exist, so I may exist in the darkness. They are
my light and without them my world is plunged
into the abyss alongside Satan and his lonely soldiers.
It is love. With every flutter of my heart with every
beat to the rhythm of sound it is love. It sweeps
through my soul freeing me. A tiny world encompassed
in the whitest light. They are silence,
In a world that so is audibly violent.
They are hope when my light cannot burn,
When it flickers weak in the screaming breeze,
A magnitude of thoughts, hummed, sung, played, spoken,
Whispered to me as I fall.
They are the only one to see my tumble, the only one to call my name.
Harmonious perfection, a chorus of comfort,
As they play the secrets to my life,
Repeating the drumming soldier, the screaming broken soul,
the essence of love, the token of…friendship.
The belief in myself, they are my strength, when I am weak.
They are my light, my only light in a world engulfed in the flames of hell.
Without them I am lost plunged back into the punishment of silence.
The bridge between nowhere and hope.
They are love, they are my soul, my spirit and the essence of
Karen Hayward © 2016.