The Mahogany Lakehouse

Neath the curtain of the night the rays of the moon cast its glimmering reflection upon the shifting waters of the lake. At the edge of this dark aqueous mirror sits a mahogany lakehouse. From its windows a warm golden light fades as a somber reminiscent piano melody plays. This woman that sits and caresses the keys with her sorrow. Her curtain of raven hair only interrupted by silver strands of life's experiences. Her hair, hiding her teary face. This beautiful woman aged like the finest of wines plays on in the starry night. As each note annotates itself upon the stars above. That tell her story to whoever may be listening. But though her frailing body puts its every effort, and her glowing soul pours its energy into song... Its divine vibrato falls upon deaf ears. For there is no stirring creature that may indulge in this curious memorable melody. Her sun forged skin complemented by the silken black dress, beautiful in its simplicity, that drapes down off the lonely duet that she sits so morose on. Her memories surround her in her mind as well as the cold dark blue room. As her joyful, sorrowful, angsty, and most climactic moments of life repeat themselves as they cast their images on the walls. In the mahogany lakehouse. At the aqueous mirror's edge. Neath the curtain of night.