Control // Minahil Naghman
erupting from inside me like lava,
won’t stay silent a second longer.
It’ll burst down like waves from the sea.
It’s angry, my foolish heart,
broken and it’s tearing me too.
My brain a slave to its whims,
It controls me now, like a fool.
It forces me to move,
to take out and set my instruments.
It forces me to sit down,
the fog in my mind now has grey tints.
My hand moves to hold,
head tilting for it to stay.
I position the violin against me,
as I prepare to play it.
Do I play it now or does it play me?
Do I control my heart, or does it control me?
Do I even care about what that frontage is?
Why the hell would I, in this mortal abyss?
Music greets my ears,
I’m in shock but I welcome it in.
My eyes flutter to a close,
asleep or awake I cannot begin to fathom.
I must be mad I think,
for I am not moving but moving I am.
I must be ludicrous,
for who am I and what is this hologram?
I don’t think I’m breathing,
as I plunge through the void deep.
Am I screaming?
Or does that scream inside me weep?
I’m losing my mind, but I don’t care.
My heart pours out and now I am hollow.
I’m plummeting into this chasm,
Alas I am also climbing out from this ditch.