She Was King
The truth eluded her at the end of the day.And softly, with weary steps, she embraced the guitar.
Forlorn strands of hair veiled her face
As her back bowed upon it's dimming shape.
In the gloaming light of her lair,
The cavernous silence resonated.
The first silken chords echoed
The deepening ache of solitude.
She caressed the neck with loverly fingers.
At the end of the day, truth fell
Like water through cracks.
She wandered without panic.
Easily shifting from chord to chord.
The knots unraveling like falling satin.
She was silent.
And in that silence,
she was King.
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