Streams falling, rivers forming
Coming straight from my vision-takers.
"Does he not know? Does he not care?"
My heart screams out in anguish,
At this the bane of memories past.
For why should I care. Tell me why.
Since I am the Dark Angel of Violins.
All alone, mentally, physically. Does it matter?
The back is mine, for why should it not?
"Why don't they see? Why don't they try?"
My heart whispers in grave longing
At this, the reality of my Fate.
Why should I care? After all, they don't.
I am the Dark Angel of Violins.
Feathers ruffling, white as snow. Eyes
Wandering, wondering who would dare.
"Should I? Shall I? Do I dare?"
My hearts squeeks in anxiety
At this, the revolution of all I am.
For if not who, why not me,
The Angelic, yet Dark Violinist?