Strings

Of that library, I rendered two-thirds of myself
In murky, moldy places, I took them with me
But never in active pursuit, with people whose
Voice block the melodies I fight for,
Everyday

The Emptiness I am so familiar with
Holds its offering, on bended knee
It has grown weary searching the leaves
Whose folds I brazenly embraced

Dare I say no-
Calls all the risk of the two-thirds it holds
Haughtily on its palm, [smirking]
I tug on its string