A7sus4

"A7sus4"

My fingers run ragged as the pass over your metal face. Raped of the softness that once resided once at the tips. The jagged edges cut through the flesh as if it were butter, such sweet innocence fades as the sweet drips. Fabric flows over the rosewood that guides us so well, milking the wood of its last drop. Blackened twines of metal stretched with such vigor, your limbs are tuned to my heart strings. As I pass you over once again, I wince. But alas, such sweet melodies don't come with out work.

People liked the poem, so I made a background.