Far away from where the music was played,
I'm on an ancient island nature made
Dependent on the resources and good
Will of others, its people filled with an
Instinctive fear, that what could happen
Is that something beyond control will
Connive to override the harmony -- yet
My ear-buds are snug and somehow still
Transmit melodic feelings of peace
And comfort, which allow me to eat,
Dream, ignore -- he will play and repeat
Blues-inspiration until the day things cease
Suddenly, to function, and the dissonant
Violent chords and notes outside increase,
Drowning out my music, my hope,
Inexorably, to the end of my rope.
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