Accessory

He got lost in it. Every day. A maelstrom of emotion tuned perfectly to the ivory. Each new tone broke something in him, yet with every chord, something brighter grew. 

Sorrow folds to placidity. 

Stress fades to fatigue. 

Anger reshapes to focus. 

And the ever-present need to create. 

Each note is a lyric, an expression of something, something sacred, something that words cannot...could never, even begin to express. 

To the essence of music, the word will forever bow. 

So he left the magic to work on its own, to shape itself. A moment in which his soul could be captured. 

Reviews

[...]

this is quite exquisite
the thought and the rendition
i agree
it's not in the words
it's in how they are experienced
ditto for music and art
it's not in the notes or colours
or shapes or forms

[James Darrow]

Very good stuff man. It's actually quite the window into the soul of an artist in any field really. Especially the lines...
"Anger reshapes to focus.
And the ever-present need to create."

Good job man.