Without the Music

Sometimes I hope to write a song,
Frame words in sweetest melodies;

Acoustics thus perfected could
Bring all my deepest secrets to
Your ears awaiting forms of beauty.

Yet this cold room can never hold
The essence of sung storytelling,
And I remain without the chords
To reach you whole and truly;

Remain with silent words alone.

Show your support

Clapping shows how much you appreciated Markus Russin’s story.