Strumming Satan

Just random plucks upon the strings; a leaking valve of notes, as memories filter through her mind like stardust’s waltzing motes. Anticipation fuels a beat, new rhythm given birth as recollection of one scene ignites her music’s worth. The distance steals attentive gaze from eyes now sadly veiled, as melancholy echoes sound where casual notes prevailed. And flickered fingers face the fret emphatic in full stream, enticing melody to air; evoked from inner dream. And tempo rises, as her face reflects intensity, her mind melds to her instrument to add new energy, deft travels at the guitar’s neck add emphasis to tones; this gypsy girl plays passion’s muse beyond existence zones. What thoughts impel her driving force as chorded notes convulse? Her pounding heel thumps drummer’s base, expanding rhythm’s pulse. Like fickle flares of furnace flames those strings breathe tongues of fire, as music seeks crescendo’s peak, and resonates desire. The moment gone, she leaves her trance, returns to here and now, and slaps her palm on guitar’s wood emitting cussing vow, she’ll never think of him again, nor let his memory dwell, and nevermore will play that song; let demons stay in hell!