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Poem: My Medicine

Reading is a series of human emotions. Writing is the gift of sharing these emotions.


In my isolation,
Your music pulls me;
It sways my footsteps from wandering the pitch-black tunnel,
It brings my equilibrium back from the unsteady path.
Those unique cosmic notes,
They ease the feeling of misery.

It's the soothing rhythm;
The calming tempo that carries the heart to another dimension,
The sonic attributes of timbre and texture that serve as colors of music.
It's not just lights that radiate,
It's the bright hues that shine into my lonely ears
To serve as medicine.

As I walk the bridge of sore nothingness,
Your music is my remedy;
It animates the sleeping mind
And strengthens my faltering journey.
It brings out the good,
It cherishes life,
It teaches to love myself.

Because thoughts are painful,
The mind, it plays tricks
But the perfect pitch of melody
and harmony can relieve;
Unpleasant emotions change,
Open wounds heal,
Hurtful memories fade.

By summoning my lost tracks
It braves the uncertain path,
And pushes for existence.
Your music inspires life
To remove doubts and criticism;
It remedies endless fears,
It gives the magic of relief.
Thank you,
Your music is my medicine.

I close my eyes to the beat;
Carefully listen to these 7 gifts:
The crooner,
The soulful,
The balladeer,
The sweetest honey,
And the three powerful poets that rhyme and feel.
Your magic is real,
Your sound don't play tricks,
You heal,
You are my medicine.

© 2019 Shey Saints

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