#137

Am I evil for wanting?

I plucked a chord,
and a tune echoed

within me—

a tune hummed
quietly,
in an emotionless sound.

Supposedly,
there was no harmony
to resonate,

but there was.

I whistled.
I blew
as if giving life

outward—

a melody
so lifeless,
so awkward,

supposedly music
that could not be,

but there was.

And in my other hand,
a noose,
tightly wrapped
and bundled,

as if it were
the most important thing—

second only
to the unconditional love
that was given:

warm,
encompassing,
and a matter
of the gravest consequence.

What should I do?

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