Eon Red Apocaylspe

My guitar is an extension of my body.
My fingers, woven wishfully to my left wrist.. are its wings,
its thumb the Guitar's spine support.
My right wrist its conductor; signalling bio-electric static
through the strings in an amplified echo of its beauty.

With every strum
and every pick
and every drum.

I close my eyes, my forearms flex in
fluid muscle memory, poised below my fretboard.
I sit here and play for the tornado to take me away.
I sit here and play for the tornado to shred my soul today.

Farewell, so long.. & goodbye.