The Gutarist

See the guitarist rise up from the stands  With that old antique instrument in his broken down hands.  Watch him express his love  Like a magician releasing his favorite dove. Watch him stroke her with his beautiful hands,  Leaving his followers in a low light trance.  Strumming his guitar be looses himself Leaving his soul behind He engulfs the music.  Peering into everyone's lives   Nobody knows how he does it.  All of these emotions we are forced to emit, In his prescence we are forced to commit.  Pledge our lives to be visible an free,  Giving his audience a sense of belonging.  His eyes closed His soul purposely exposed. Nobody understands what has happened Waking up only to realize that the show ended long ago.  Showing no sign of where he's from or where he goes.  The guitarist leaves to  intoxicate another ghost