Future Success

Pissed off, sweaty and out of sight

calloused fingers and sore calfs

hailing from dreary, rainy, dorm room days

stuttering and stumbling through every scale, mode, note and measure

with zeal and delight.

To hear a blossoming flower becoming overrun with weeds

still striving, still extending its tendrils upward towards the sun

with agility, every blooming head, every scale, song and note

will find absolution and rest.

Every string will be in tune,

every note played with the power and certainty,

of ancient armies descending upon the staff

and your face, glancing up from a crowd,

will smile.