The unexpected symphony,
Filled the empty darkness.
A violin, polished black ebony,
Poised beneath her whispered breath.

A raven ruffled its wings nearby,
Blending into the inky mass.
Beady eyes stared all around,
Unexpected audience, weeping sound.

Her fingers fumbled as she plucked the strings,
A sigh from luna, melancholy in the form of mist.
Constellations sewn into the blanket of stars,
The rusty strings sighing with an electric buzz.

Tragic symphony harmonized by broken yield,
For she plays her violin until her fingers bleed.