The Soloist

Here you are
Just you and the guitar
The sun fades away
Yet you still play

As all you know falls to pieces
As the bridges you've burned
Raise smoke high into the air
You can hear the cries and screams of the guitar
Always being played, no matter by whom

It's usually you, even when
You are broken and beaten down
Past a point of healing completely
Yet you fight off the pain
With this guitar in your hands

Take all the little things
And push them away with the
Pounding sound waves
Blow them all away on a wind made
By the strum of your pick

Never will you regret
How you pushed them away
For they threatened to ruin you
And make no frets of how you pushed me too
You mistook me for one of them

I followed the sounds of the guitar here
All along the way, finding bits and pieces of you
That had fallen from your soul
As you tried so hard to stand tall and strong
And all along the way I pick up that which fell from you

You stand upon a tower made of you crushed hopes
And secret, burning miseries
As I climb up, making pegs of footholds
To pull myself up on
I struggle to reach you

You try not to fend me off
Or hurt me as you play
I understand that you must to stay safe
But when you try to hard I lose my place
And fall a little ways

You watch me from a far
High up above my head
And pray that I make it to the top
With the pieces of you
To make you whole once more

And when I do I promise you
That I will put you back together
And fill in the broken pieces of you
With the whole pieces of me


And when you are strong enough to protect yourself again
Without hiding behind the noise of your guitar
We can leave this tower of gloom and misery forever
Never to return, and always to run together
Across the vast, elaborate wasteland of reality
Finally to never be hurt again





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