And through his fingertips, and through their touch to the cold ivory keys,
and through all the pain that inspires him to write music, and through the emotions that drive his soul,
and through the words that have been put so carefully to paper, and through the late nights spent teaching himself to play guitar,
and through each string he gently plays, through every note he hits,
through the warmth of the melody breaking the cold silence,
through the sound of his voice in the hallow room,
through the look of passion I see in his eyes,
through it all,
he makes the music come alive.
His music lives.
It resounds through my soul.
it heals,
it inspires,
it teaches,
it lives.
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