The Eye of the Storm

[redsea_greysky]

The musician
Grasps the paintbrush
In his hand.
And notes drift
Away, like
The wind over sand.
He cannot
Gather the right
Sound in,
So on his canvas
He blends colors
To create distortion.
Six vibrations
Condense
To one.
A single note
Can be seperated
From none
Of the other
Colors that
Are heard.
The clean note
Has now
Been blurred.

This swirling
Confusion takes
On more sound.
The globe of
Hysteria just
Circles around.
From the vaccuum's
Center a pure
Note pierces through.
Where nothing
Could fly, this
Note flew.
From the
Celestial body of
Unclean Song,
Came the right
That was supposed
To be wrong.
This stream of
Clearness that shot
From the mist,
Proves that
In chaos, peace
Does exist.