The music of my soul
Is a quiet, yet soaring
String symphony
A powering melody
Of wordless hope

For words are
Consumers of emotion
Eating away at
Feelings
Dreams
Self

Words are of worry
Of doubt
Of loss

Allow me the enjoyment
Of silent wonder
Listening to
The music of my soul

When you close your eyes, what do you hear? Not see, what do you hear from the deepest parts of your insides. Is a cacophonous maelstrom that could deafen you if you listen too much, or is it a symphony of self approval?

I hope it's the latter.