The Realness Part IV: Suicide of a Symphony

Fully loaded, pressed against my temporal lobe…
I have never been this ready.

I can hear the instrumentation.
The woodwinds, brass, strings, and percussion.
All of them intertwined in a whirlwind of human experiences,
Waiting for the precise moment to let God shine through them.

Was there anything before the moment?
Will there be anything after?
All is now.
This is everything.

The horns blare,
The strings sing with every stroke,
And the drums…

The drums…

I can feel them throughout my entire body,
They move me with no remorse,
No understanding.

And then…

The horns are silent,
The strings are still…

And the drums…

Have they stopped…
Or…
Have I?

Waiting for the precise moment…
Waiting for God…
Waiting…

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