Inner Instrument

There is an inner instrument that plays
Me more than I ever know to play it, 
Yet we’re musical collaborators
Exploring sense and surround, transport’s sound

If musing helps absurdity to soar
It needs to avoid sun’s proximity,
Remember how thin is winged gossamer 
Make notes of limits of both mind and throat

In abhorrence of pride, pride’s still at work
Limit of assertion’s yet assertive
Falling sound of failing sound still resounds
This instrument’s tone strays far from itself

Play rhapsody of lack, rhapsodic luck
The heart is stringed for the sake of its pluck