Harmony

Fingertips, on strings, strings of bronze,

Strings, that with every pluck, vibrations are aloud,

Vibrations, that illuminate thou's sactuary

Thou's sactuary, made of particles of dirty white walls and white corn ceilings,

that disperse into millions of pops,

The walls, reflecting thou's harmony with his love,

The love, Julia, in tranquility she plays,

as her beauty lays,

upon thou's legs

In together, tranquil harmony is sounded