The Harmony of Strife

"I heard there was a secret chord,

which David played and it pleased the Lord.

And then there are those broken strings,

playing no songs fit for Kings.

A string when played, screams bitter agony,

striking all its hearers with all kinds of mortal maladies.

Hear its music from the mouths of widows and orphans,

bellowing its tune louder than the pipes of an organ.

Sing its tune at your own risk,

for it takes and takes more than it gives.

Ruckus, mayhem, and chaos ensue

when the chords are played to that disharmonious tune.

Stop your singing, Oh’Musician,

lest the results of your song reach fruition.

Father turns against son, as does his mother;

are you the Sword of Division come to turn us against each other?

Play your burning melody elsewhere, Ohh Bard,

for the works of your hands burn everything until it’s charred.

I hear screaming on the streets and the sound of your drums,

banging out it’s rhythm as the prince of chaos hums.

Please, Oh Musician, can you sing about that Cross?

Can you sing of a King that saves us from the prince’s jaws?

Please play the tune that pleased the Lord,

so peace may once again be my reward."