Away from rhyme

Every note hung,
Up and down a string.
Melodious.
Perfect.
One word agreeing with another.
To the world's ears music.

Here I stand.
Unstrung, unsung.
Complete in my discord.
Moving silently through every note.
From the baby's lullaby,
Into the leaves in sophomore of the spring.
From the rusted, old temple bell,
Into the morning rain, rattling window panes clean.
Making sure I'm not strung perfectly,
Made into a Tra-la-la.

I'm a note not yet made,
I shall never pigeon hole be.
Away from rhyme,
I beat an unusual euphony!