Instrument of Death

When I hear music, I fear no danger. I am invulnerable. I see no foe. I am related to the earliest times, and to the latest. - Thoreau

my abled hand wraps around its narrow neck

tightening a chord

sliding back and forth on its constricted throat

plucking dark truth

strumming sweet sorrow

squeezing the last remnants of breath

taking its life while introducing it to a slackened death

playing a sucide note

holding it close

killing it

taking it far

with this catgut, stringed guitar

Author's Note

"Listen to music religiously, as if it were the last strain you might hear." - Thoreau