Sweet Music

Form: Epistle

Hello my lovely,

Feeling a bit reflective and geriatric today, so not sure how this will go or if it will even flow into a cohesive missive. Old saying is that the older the violin, the sweeter the music – well I’m not sure about that really. I think I have a string missing and the bow broke someplace along the way. Not an awesome start but hey, it is what it will be.

How does one define sweet music anyway. Is it the classical orchestral works of Brahms and Chopin, the stuff you like, or the melodic death metal I like. Hmmm, can one refer to Necrotted as purveyors of sweet music, I think I am pushing it there to be honest. It’s all a matter of perception I guess.

They also say music is the food of love – let’s dance. I am pretty sure it can empower emotions so I have no doubt it can bring love to the fore. It is how musical drama works after all. There is nothing quite as romantic as Tchaikovsky floating on the air or Beethoven in the moonlight. Can’t exactly do that with Necrotted or even Slipknot, maybe the odd one of Metallica or Guns N’ Roses. Maybe I should listen to radio of the living dead (not gonna happen) and connect with the trashy beige bilge they air – yeah never gonna happen in all eternity.

So here we are you got a rather sad example of a violin who traded his bow for a walking stick, I guess. The only thing I can do is give you my love, and if you give me five minutes that is cool, I don’t ask or expect anything in return. The one thing age has taught me music can be played for love, but it should be played freely with no conditions and no expectations. Perhaps then the sweet music of love is the love we give without personal expectation of some grand response.

I love you now and always, without reservation or condition

Always, all ways, your crazy-assed poet xxx


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