beauty in pain

It is dusk and the light filters through the evening curtain, casting a non descript pattern. A lone figure is there, next to the piano, swaying silently despite the chatter from the background.

She stands next to the piano, her fingers trailing on the familiar notes. Her shoulders are strong but stooped, the burden of holding back the sorrow too great. Her tears fall silently on the carpeted floor. She lets her fingers fall of the piano as she moves in time to the music, to notes that only she could hear, the background noise gradually fading away. Her heart is heavy with sorrow, sorrow that she could never express as she thought about how she used to feel in his arms. The way he used to clasp her, keeping her warm, safe and secure. She burrowed deeper into her shawl, trying to recreate that exact feeling. But deep inside, she knew he would never come back.

Somewhere, together with the strains of the violin, large racking sobs could be heard.

-- If Nigel Kennedy’s Solitude was a visual

Rich melodies pregnant with meaning, spilling out slowly, like strewn rose petals on satin pillows. Notes that speak of things that was and will be. Things that may never change, things that signify regret

It’s a lovely and haunting song.