I sang songs of freedom
of a joy that runs over one’s cup
of a bliss that stains the skin with red-lipped kisses
of a liberation that runs deep, entrenched within the soul
burning, bubbling, bursting
from underneath a weathered exterior.
I sang songs of happiness.

I sang songs of redemption
songs of repent
of a pain that grips the heart with white knuckled fingers and dirty fingernails
songs of sin
sin that turns the soul a devilish blue-black
sin that sharpens teeth
sin that destroys
sin that births anew
I sang songs of catharsis.

I sing sings of melancholy.
of grief.
of disconnection, then reconnection.
songs of rue.
of exasperation
breath escaping in quiet gasps
or breath that fails to escape, and suffocates.
songs of suicide
of failure.

I sing songs of Death
and His cold hands
finessing the bow of a mournful viola
caressing my neck as a lover might, as a lover did
firm, yet gentle
liberating

I hear the final chorus.