The Song

This is the song
You're trying to write,
unknowing how sound
obliterates sight,
unknowing that rests
are where truth will hide,
unknowing of melody
and silence inside.

This is the song
your heart is avoiding,
running away down
some desolate lane,
running away with
your head in the clouds,
running away, to hide from the pain.

This is the song
sung without a reprise,
with a sticky back melody
forgot not with ease.
This is the song
with a minor refrain,
and a desparate urge
to play it again.

This is the song
you know is about you,
though you try to pretend
it's obtuse and obscure.
This is the song
that's been seeking its coda,
to show you your soul
and what it is for.