Literary: Opus 715

7/23/2015 08:42:00 PM Media Center 0 Comments

My fingertips gently pressed the keys.

I slowly bowed the strings.

In front of a spotlight

In front of an agog crowd—

Our music spoke aloud.

I played the melody.

I gave the accompaniment.

One by one

My fingers touched notes,

While I played with both hands
And even gave my soul.

For the fairness of this piece

That we both composed.

But then you went out of our rhythm.

After a measure,

Your hands slipped from the keys.

You played sharp.

You played flat.

You now played an octave higher.

You’re far away from where we should be.

You said you knew this piece very well.

You said you were ready.

But how come we’re now out of harmony?

How I wish I can get out of this tragedy,

This disconcertment I cannot redeem.

Now the crowd has gone,

The curtains have closed.

Yes, it was all a show—

And now it’s over.

I’d like to blame you
I want to ask you, “Why?”

But our heartstrings

Are now broken.

Our once sweet song was replaced

By silence that for us,

Will forever remain.

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