Acta est fabula, plaudite

What I sing from my chest Only for ivory keys to hear. Are the same old words That cracked lips bear. That familiar tune that calloused fingers play Is the one that my own heart aches to say. I have plucked and I have strummed But when its my own heartstrings That are plucked for the masses Will my soul succumb or burn to ashes? If a song is played for others to judge Its worth is no longer for me alone. My fears replayed as feedback And my own tune I have outgrown. When the keys have cracked And guitar strings snapped; Is the silence left a rest Or is it forever prolonged? I have played my part And sang my chant My ear worm finally laid to rest. Yet a few notes linger in the air Awaiting the song to begin again.