If words were symphonies and thoughts high melodies, i wonder now, how mine would look? Where on the stave would each phrase lie? What accents would adorn their heads? Would harmonies dance round each word? Or would they fall like metal rods, that clang or bang in harsh, bland ways? Would they uplift the listener's ear? Or haunt like ghostly, melancholic tones? Would they have power to ease pain? Or would they open up old wounds and make them hurt again? Would they enrich the heart or leave black stains? Can a melody be sweet with cheerful notes, then turn dark, then sweet again; all in one bar? What if the lips produce a mix? Such symphonies would make no sense and leave the listener confused over the message. But what if the composer carefully penned a loving tune, wrought from the heart expressing grace, but somewhere in the orchestra a man disobeyed? So inbetween the gentle tunes came dark exploding notes? What if the conductor commanded him to stop, showed him the correct piece to play, but however hard he tried the man continued to interrupt the melody? Surely those few grave notes would destroy the whole symphony? No matter how beautiful, no matter how enchanting, no matter how heart-felt the rest of the piece, those few intruding sounds would ruin it all. What should one do though, if those intruding notes cannot be controlled?