The record plays,
it's melody soothing,
a respite for the soul.
Thoughts abound
of love won, love lost.
And all the inconsistencies between.
A prayer leaves my lips,
heart stay strong,
be still.
Momentary joy,
there, then fleeting,
accompany the ebb and flow.
The record plays, the needle skips.
The din harsh, unsettling.
I recoil out of reflex.
The Cacophony of the lost,
the broken-hearted and the cynical,
I remain amongst it, grasping.
Regrets flourish,
sorrow overwhelms.
Control is lost.
My prayer returns,
it's power hundredfold,
the Lion-hearted prevails.
I remove the needle,
the record slows,
the vinyl returns to it's home.
Just an album in my collection.
