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At midnight, the drums begin to cry
Fingertips are torn, blood hits the floor
Still he plays, still he survives
Lightning eyes, a whip for a voice
No praise lives in this world he learned
Only silence sharp as a blade
Rhythms written in spilled blood
Notes stacked high with pain
He asks himself between every beat
Is this music, or my heart screaming out
Every perfect bar erases him
Until only one sound is left
When that sound finally fades
Silence stands and applauds
Only then he steps beyond
His master and himself
