A Fusionary Life of Music

Something had felt sincere, now it’s gone away Where the crystals of quartz had been polished The clarity was lost in blinding light, now tarnished Broken in imposed order, reloaded back in frays We’re all along the ride when autumn comes The life of a song lives to relive and come back Either it’s trap, in-house, or performed in crumbs In a concert—yet recorded to preserve the track White light no longer shines bright; it only blinds It’s a daze, threatens eyesight, renders nothing All in mere creation, it’s the notes that are lined Together—played in strings, strained to be fitting Then you pen the schemes to release rhythm Onto a sheet of paper—driven to be risen Above your system, listen to chords recorded Repeat it, replay it, and revise to be reported Broadcast it to satellites, catalyse the lyrics Capture the dynamics, like the last living souls Who reached out to the villain for acoustic physics Where two gimmicks created goals to be verbose Suppose there was a song inside an iconic album That mixed three influences, mixed masterfully Then blended glitches and instruments–an anthem That naturally releases a powerful accuracy