The Guitar Man

I heard about his passion for music. How the notes dance as he strums that guitar.

I am curious about what he feels when he is in the rhythm. Does the lyrics influence him in any way? I can see how the demons control him every time he lays a finger on those strings.
Ah! Those magical strings that create a bewitching sound, drawing people to him as he consumes their souls.
I am drifting too, with every beat. Ghosts of the past swirl around my head as the tune fills the room. They echo like a thousand memories bouncing from every word of my favorite song.
Oh, nostalgia! It’s strangling me, but I like it.

I notice that when his soul gets possessed by the melody, he can be whoever he wants to be, he can say whatever he wants to say. And nobody, I mean, nobody can judge him.

© Pancake Bunnykins