This is the first piece I have written in several months. It just sort of slid off the end of my tongue as I typed. I was thrilled at how simple it came to me and after I was finished, I was very pleased. I usually don't rhyme either, so cut me some slack! Al va Ron As he sits in the valley that echoes of oceans, He bends down the strings that will play his life through. He's an old night of valor, a soldier, a prowler, A musical defect who buys souls by two. With notes for the day and tones for the night, And harmonies that are prefaced to kill. No pitch too high, the treetops, the sky, With his six string, he's king of his hill. But as he collides with the rocks and the ages, His footwork becomes Al va Ron. His heart is now beating to the melody he's playing, But all life he once had is gone. Al Va Ron! Al Va Ron! His fingers now bleeding. He can't feel but what he once lost. In a tumorous state, he's playing irate, A song he once wrote at a cost. For his soul and his heart are pumping so dark, You'd think he was Satan, himself. But the reason behind is a true love gone blind, He knew there would be no one else. Now as he plays, he's counting the days, Since he first heard the words: Al va Ron. The one he once loved, as pale as a dove, As she whispered the words: Al va Ron. And with her last breath, he held close to his chest, An instrument and soothed her soul. He made her a song, and from that day on, Al va Ron to him was like gold.