The Soundsmith. 

 I craft them using ciphers;
an electronic alchemy.
 I open up the drivers,
and searing noise-shapes pulse around me,
 savage, weird, and rare.

      I forge a chain unbroken,
     from liquid crystal, synthesized.
      A fiery phrase, evoken,
     leaps from the wires, ionized
      and shimmering in the air.

           I weave this flame, brocaded;
          an astral dance inside your mind.
           And when it's trails have faded,
          no lambent thread remains behind;
           they were not really there.