Poem : Power Highest

When the music stops 
I shan't exist as I do.
Then the notes flow,
Stringing pieces of the soul,
Beset above and beneath the line of prudence,
Into a boundless mosaic- 
Growing fractally, rising to crescendo as life-      

as I, Catching the sun, outshining it-                    

Only to shatter with the silence and                      

lay as ember

as I.