Side Effects

There is something that happens

When you connect that cable

To your beloved collection of wood, metal and plastic

It is not just the transfer of an electric current

There is a connection made to your very soul

In the seconds, minutes, hours that  follow

A release is found

As unexplainable as falling in love

 

What is inside must come out

The soul cries for release through every groan of every day

The release is found with every bend, every triad, every glorious palm mute

How depressing would the world be without a good palm mute?

The intensity builds, volume increases, tempo changes with the mood

Never played before, never to be played again, this is the thrill of being lost in creativity

All too soon it is over, the clock ticks and it is time to return to the real world

Not before what needed to be expressed has been

 

 

This is a gift, not necessarily a gifting

No one will pay you for this, most likely no one will even listen

It matters not, it never did, that is simply not the point

What you experienced was real and true and beautiful

What you experienced realigned the stars

And now, now at the conclusion

All you are left with are the side effects

As you realize your skin was shedding while you were shredding