A solitary sound in an opera house.
The gentle plucking of strings,
carried on a murmur,
echoing through the air.
The notes carry a question,
begging for an answer.
The orchestra plays,
their song of chaos filling the stage.
Her notes are drowned and misplaced
in the cacophony of sound.
But still she plays, oh why does she play?
A cello sounds, the funeral begins.
The death of dream,
mourned with the utmost reverence.
Still she plays, her own tears,
flowing out of her heart and into the music.
Then comes a response.
The sombre plucking of a violin.
It echoes her own song,
yet poses another question.
Does she answer?
A single sound signals a song.
With it the orchestra sings
and she is heard.
A soft melody resonates through the opera house.
a duet of strings, high and low,
Carried on a lover’s whisper, filling the air.
The notes have no question,
just gentle peace.