The Misunderstood

A song that meets the ears is oft bereft
Of meaning its creation should have brought.
By fate or fortune, what we hear is left
Fragmented—far removed from native thought.
Then music heard can often be untrue
To thoughts inspiring, left inside the mind.
An artist needs divide between the two,
Whether to show the sounds left unrefined.
Concealing thoughts that might expose the heart,
A song devised may hold in secrecy
The sacred inner truth, the hidden part
That shrouds itself in sleep and subtlety.
And yet, when played aloud, each song retains
A tune that only he who listens hears.
Perhaps from this a newer theme remains:
A matchless melody for list’ning ears.