Bohemian Rhapsody

acers of white satin
shined up for the show
the dreamings of electric guitars
and baby grand pianos
a voice unequaled for a generation gone
played back from a prime to show what was lost
words unimportantly important
dancing across the stage on their own
animated by a quicksilver tongue
the words divided by meaning and sentiment
as much an apology as a request
echoing images repeating chorus
a feast for all who see and hear