A melodious tune

A symphony of harsh voices rushes to her body.

Each more beastly than the last. They shout, they scream, they rip her up.

But they don't know about her past. A broken beauty still so fresh,

but somehow turned stonecold. A youthful presence full of whim,

but she feels much too old. Another sound is coming now, the one that is her air.

It melts her fears, heals her heart, and vanquishes her despair. A sound so sweet,

a sound so pure, a sound that is divine. They call it music, a melodious tune,

truly one of a kind. And so she walks head down, with half a smile, feeling

without a doubt. That music, this melodious tune, she cannot live without.

This poem is about: 
Me
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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