Listen up, strain your ear. The music that once played has faded out. My song, the song I once boldly shouted as my anthem of choice has been lost in the shuffle of things. I can't seem to remember the verses, and the chorus, just a few notes.
I long to sing again, and to sing at the top of my lungs. Can you hear my voice? It is hoarse, weak, and continues to be drowned out by this disorganized orchestra of voices. These voices are powerful, yet screech falsities to anyone who will listen. Why do I waste my time entertaining their cheap performance?
No longer will I accept their tune as my own. You have given me voice, strengthen it. You have given me rhythm, set it. You have written my symphony, let me hear it again.
Just you and I, no outside noise. Sing for me, My king. No other voice is sweeter, nothing clearer. Nothing satisfies the depths of my soul than the richness of your voice.
Great Composer, write my song.
