That one stuck song, one
of abstract notes with melodic undertones. The whisper of certain gravity heard
when the silence played within the echoes of its day. They arose. Every day
with the sense of a lullaby, walking into a new world that felt secure and
alive with rhythm. As days passed, the circles of notes slowed eased its mark
under their eyes. The song replayed again and again, slowly turning into a
tormented music box that would not fall quiet.
Its humans strained, listening
to the meaning of its whisper. The quickness of the day and the noise of the
world made the effort almost impossible. The songs of others became louder and
louder, until their own song got drowned within the boom. The notes became
jumbled and the boom of the bass soon kept them up. The drum of their hearts
became softer and the rhythm of the breath became weaker.
The songs stuck in their
heads were silenced. The song of life became jumbled. There was too much too
listen to and yet there was nothing at all. Confusion was the new director of its
master work. Truth was its ailing assistance, slowly trying to build strength.
Rearrangement of cognition and emotions were the innovators of change, slowly
stepping into place. Slowly allowing new music to come along. The listeners
learned, understanding the old song of confusion were truly tangled trails of
clarity. With that once said, the song stuck in their heads began taking new rhythm.
The music continued.
