The following poem is not of my own work; it is a piece I found on Wattpad a few years ago, written by a user whose name I have failed to remember. Credits go to their rightful owner.
Holding it seems so natural; so innate.
She breathes in, the music pours out and fills her soul completely.
As the bow glides on red strings, the therapeutic sound traps her in a cycle she cannot leave.
The melody catches her tears; the silence creates them.
Addicted to the song she plays for eternity.
The music blinds her, for she cannot see
That her violin is broken, and so is she.