So the Gregorian chant, and, you know, then you started getting, you know, the advancement of music. And the sonata itself, in terms of critical writing, was really there to decorate the words on the page. It wasn't really about spoken words, it was more about specifically aiming to kind of have a structure for the written word, how it appears on the page.
But it still doesn't help when it comes to how music, spoken word and poetry really kind of comes together. And the cantata is the closest to kind of the classical music style of music. And it's now this kind of new innovative way of having one or two people perform, you know, the poem, instead of a whole group of people.
So I've been experimenting with the cantata style in terms of writing three poems. And I'm going to do the very last one that I wrote in that style of the cantata. And it is called Broken Tears.
Let me just find that quickly. Here we go. Broken Tears, a requiem for the one who held the key.
It is past midnight, and I'm speaking to the dark again. I tell it, I'm fine. I tell it, it's okay.
I wear the words you gave me, like a borrowed coat that never fit. It's not about the loneliness, not about the empty nights, nor the coast of children we never had. It's about rebuilding the exhausting architecture of starting over on a foundation that has turned to ash.
Do you see me as broken? Am I still reaching for the moments I felt something? One kiss from you and the noise stopped. One touch and the world finally had a centre. You made me a hero.
You made me a lover. You made it impossible for anyone else to measure up. To be honest, you fucked me up.
You became the scale upon which the world is weighed and every living thing falls short. I know how I lost you. I know I could have given more.
