Pain
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Oh! Screaming siren!
Will you never cease?
Your voice surrounds me like so much discordant polyphony,
Never ceasing never slowing.
The shrill piccolo in my leg begins the imitation,
The timpani in my head repeat the theme.
Before one part is finished
Another joins.
The harmony is cruel though the melodies bearable.
The instrument you use is not your own.
You take my strength to play this,
Although I do not wish to hear.
When I cover my ears
The beat grows louder,
For you are within;
The pipes drone on their steady pulse within my head.
How I wish to flee this fugue!
But your voices entwine around me
Holding me still.
If only you were music!
Aesthetic Theory
Etudes
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