The Second Symphony
By: Nash
a daze sets a blaze to the fire of song
beaten amazed by the precious desire he longed
one second, one moment ..a tick into time
a slick movement in the hand and mind
he demands his sign be imprinted in this key
one first and one second'll be all that he needs
as he presses down a finger ..
pressure frowns and lingers, and this town of an audience stares
for god he sends, unaware of the song that frolick ahead of his cares
chilling the hairs of people who sit still in their chairs
watch as harmony takes them there ..
he believes the peace of the key he'll soon touch
is the link between ugly and fare ..the crutch
sort of scared, his finger shakes ..it lowers upon it's blessing
leading to the aching symphony, which dawns on souls he's besting
before hand, so much testing ..
but after hand, a masterpiece is played
and as notes pass.. so breeds a dying day
and lying away in the depths of decay
a dusty piano sits ..
and fears a man who plays in violent fits
torment of a piano, as it's buttons are pushed
it awaits its people and their soft touching looks
the second symphony ..
is the art before a song, that key the finger longs
the pressing moment, when people guess that nothing's wrong
a small gong, or a ding ..a ring into the ear
people listen for the heaven that they'll hear ..
an auditorium of people, and it's that one note they beckon
.. and he hits that one key.. that is pushed for but a second