In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Alphabet Soup.”

Altered breathing, careful drumming,

Enthusiastic fingers on the guitar.

Hindered intentions, jealousy-

After all, she was a star.

Kindred lyrics, music nestling,

Opaque in her silly joys,

Perpetually penetrating quintessential reservoirs

Of a soulful and sorrowful turmoil of listeners.

Ushering venom from vengeful eyes-

Those wistful xenomorphs

Yonder the zenith.

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