I press my fingers to the ivory keys, pursing my lips tightly. I hear the sound of a B flat. Such a extraordinary sound. I continue, each random note I played, it felt as if my soul was starting to stir. My face relaxed with each tentative stroke of the keys. Release. Exhaling slowly as I make the notes into feeling. I wasn't merely playing an instrument. I was turning feelings of a deep, pensive, and long-lasting sadness into sound. Breathtakingly, devastating and remorseful, but beautiful sound. Every painful and heart ripping memory is flowing from my mind into my hands, pooling in my finger tips as I played. I did not stop, images flashed of my mothers face when she had told me my father was dead. I quickened the pace of my playing, Hoping they would leave as fast as
they came. Becoming lost, I smiled twistedly in insanity. My music became dark, the room around me was an eerie silence except for the song coming from the piano. This was my vita sonata. My life composition.
This isn't really a poem. I just started writing. I came up with this, and felt it needed to be shared. Its melancholic to say the least.