Vintage Violin

Careful luthier,

Hands grazing my strings,

Cradling my bout.

Will you replace my bridge,

Or leave it to splinter?

Will you tend to my sound post,

Or leave it to tumble?

My form to crumble,

Cracking into the hollow within.

Master crafter

Knowing my limits,

That I am soon to shatter.

Will you ressurect my fragile being

Or play me as I disintegrate?

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