A sudden sound fills the room
It's harmonies and cords blending
It's rhythm on perfect beat
It paints the room with sound
A crescendo can cause an eruption
While a decrescendo can create a gentle stream
The faster the melody, the room is painted with purples
The slower, the room is painted with blues
The song dances around
Changing the colors ever so swiftly
They swirl around the room
Changing its appearance
But the music grows slower and more soft
Instruments quieting
Into the last instrument plays its last note
And the song ends as it had begun
YOU ARE READING
Poems From The Mind-COMPLETED
PoetryJust a bunch of random poems about anything that comes to mind. Completed.-editing at the moment but completed. please tell me if there are any speller or grammar mistakes. Thanks. Book 1 of Poems From The Series
