And so it gained weight
The terrible state
Of a country that all played
Sad tunes in a parade
For the Queen was ill
And no hunter could kill
A horse or a ox
To even save the Queens socks
And the violonist heard
From the singing of a bird
That only the true magic
Of music so tragic
Could save her from death
And give her new breath
So he set forth again
For he had a brain
To play a few notes
That put cork in the throats
And he played night and day
And the melodies grew less gay
And he finably struck a chord
That brought great reward
BINABASA MO ANG
The Violinist #Wattys2016
PoetryA story through poetry. The Violinist is a type of bards tale about a Violinist and as bard tales are they are full of adventure and humor as well as sorrow.
