Monk ( don`t blame me)

Figures somehow coloured, just the hammer on the strings  
the tinting of the phrases, a spread of darkened wings  
offset shine, like rapids falling slowly, fast all intertwined  
the order unarranged, will ever stay, sublime  

Inhabiting one's soul,  with echoes of discord  
and never missed a sharp of flat  
arguments, the undertow that edged the pointed sword  
to stay or just to leave, the message in each tap  
 
I was waiting for a chorus, but there was no relapse  
hope, like the ring upon his finger shone  
a soloist upon a stool, the cord of love was snapped  
for blamelessness, cant play one hand alone  
 
For in both hands the relishes  
the reason to be born  
sad melodies, drive your spirits. was it selflessness?  
a message, listening to you perform