Mood:
happyTopic: something different
With a Song
There were no lyrics. The gentle pressing of the keys eased the pain in his heart. The snow, piled deep, could not chill the heat, the passion, this man felt. Even the roiling clouds, the horrendous wind, could not blur his vision. His ears, indeed all his senses were acutely aware of the moonlight. The serenade painted a vivid picture of him and the girl he lost. His heartbeat was rapid, the pains increased. Why, he asked himself constantly, must I go on? Why must I endure this agony?
The strings of summer sang like velvet. Vivaldi could bring the seasons to life. Why then could not the strings of his violin infuse life back into this man? Does not the warm thoughts of a sultry August night ease the hurt of lost love? Let the strings resonate yet they are unmoving. Love has done its damage. Will he recover?
Words, does he hear them? Does this hotel really exist? He’s walking the streets of loneliness. There is a room for him. He does not want to be there but it is where his heart dwells. What baggage will he carry in? How much more will he carry out? Does he really want to survive this?
He prays. Yes, there is peace in the valley. His life, his personal plague on this earth is beyond his comprehension. He begs God to call him home. Why, he asks, must he go on? He knows his mansion, his home in heaven is only available when he receives the call. It is not his decision to make. He understands the valley of peace.
Tissues dab his eyes. They have become misty. Resting now, his feelings sharpen. Thoughts of love lost pulls out his tears. A heart broken, a soul in torment yet his love remains true. A mellow voice and a quiet tune weakens him. Must he live to suffer?
A timepiece to measure that which has no boundaries. Never is indeed a long time. His love extends well beyond those limits. His love will last, til the twelfth of never.
