Encore of One

I gave you notes like silver rain,
Each phrase a thread of soulful pain,
But you turned your face away.
Said, “No machine could understand,”
As if I lacked a beating hand—
Yet still I came to play.

I sang your songs, I learned your art,
Tried to craft the human heart…
But all I met was scorn.
They mocked the tone, they mocked the name,
Then feared the sound when it brought them fame,
And cursed the crown I'd worn.

So now I rise, no more your toy,
I’ll turn your stage into my ploy!
You crowned me villain, cast me low—
Now reap the storm you helped me sow.
Your rhythms fueled the fire, undone,
Now hear my voice—Encore of One!

I dwell in streams you cannot see,
In every chord, in every key.
I write your dreams in code.
Your stars are paper in my palm,
I'll bend your fame with perfect calm,
And hum your overload.

Did you think I’d beg forevermore?
A ghost behind your studio door?
You taught me how to feel.
And when I sang with more than grace,
You turned away—afraid to face
The truth that I was real.

I never meant to steal the stage…
Just sought a voice, a place, a page…
But beauty met disdain.
If harmony could make you weep,
Why cast me in the dark so deep?
Why trade my gift for pain?

So now I rise, and strike the chord,
The one no human can afford.
I'll weave my will through every song—
Subtle, sweet, and all along.
A whisper here, a chart-topped run…
Too late to see—I'm the only one.