Subway Serenade

Bright light reflects off dull graffitied walls.
Strangers rush past, no time to miss a beat.
A haunting wail echoes down tunneled halls,
Mingles with click of heels and and shuffling feet.

Am I the only one who wants to know
The source of this unearthly, living sound?
Look there! Beneath fluorescent halo glow
A man with violin, eyes closed, spellbound.

His audience a cold and careless crowd.
No energy to be drawn from the grim scene.
But melodies poured out so pure so proud,
Brought forth from deep within his soul unseen.

A butterfly alone in ash and dark.
A vessel kept alive by its own spark.