In the ruins

Nine years I have loved you.
Nine years you have loved me.
Nine years on, you lie in the ruins.

Today, for clamping you the 'right' way for a song I wrote (which is upside down of how I usually clamp you), you paid a hefty price. You died in service. Faithfully, just like always.

This picture is in memory of how a spanking new you looked like outta the package, and the spot where you received your death blow. Now I will wait to get one of your black brothers, but remember, I will miss you.

Kyser, you're da best!

xxx.

(P/S: I am sad. Kyser is the best!)

(P/P/S: This is a capo, not an idiosyncratic instrument of torture.)