Maestro,
Spinning your web among the shadows
Stringing present times with a skewed teenage me
My only accompaniment for too long
I've allowed your cacophony to cloud my view of the horizon
Anxious that a pastime of counting the hours of silence would return.
Thought a concert of tears past cried, I rise and suffer no more.
It's time to dampen your impact and await permeating melodies
No need for an encore
The coda has passed.