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Silence to the World, a Symphony to Him

A Symphony

By HowlPublished 6 years ago 2 min read
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A symphony of laughter, yelling, and drunkard conversations swell around the bar. The dim light flickers. The mugs are slammed down as a guffaw encapsulates the room. The author grabs his pen, dipped in ebony ink. A new symphony begins. The piano starts, a single chord breathing as he writes. His sentences long, mellifluous and as full as the sighing chords. The keys hasten as does his hand, running faster, his words blurry, lost beneath the music, his soul lacing every letter. A violin slowly creeps in as he dips his pen, quickly returning to the filling page. The pen dancing as the piano sings. The sweat falling as the violin rises.

A mistake is made. Ignored, as his hand runs faster and faster. The world around him melts as a new one grows with the song. The voices around drown from the mellifluous chords of piano, violin, cello, harp, and the rhythmic scratch of the pen against paper. CRASH. A clash of the cymbals as he slams the page to the side, ready for the next. His passion, swelling. His hand, aching. His breath, short and lost. His writing slows as he approaches the bridge, haltingly strolling across with the moon and the stars standing over the night, reflecting against the gentle stream. The piano chirps softly around him. The violin winds by as a nightly breeze. He strolls across, onto a dirt path. His heart stands ahead of him. Her blonde hair, flowing. Her skin, glowing from the moonlight. The piano slows as he does. He stops.

Silence.

He takes a deep breath. His pen raised. His heart, beating faster. His pace slowly growing with the sounds of the night. The piano swirls around him. A flowing breeze. A tempest of passion.

His breath hastens. His hands clench. The piano sings. The violin screams. The harp twinkles with the night sky. The cymbals crash as his hand slams against the table, writing his heart through his pen with the symphony screaming its heart out in crescendo. CRASH. A passionate shout escapes him as he runs to his love. The wind grows. The fields, dance. The night, alive. The words, muddy and lost to his ardor. Yet he still writes. His hand, bleeding as it races across the page. The beats of his heart crash to the rhythm as he slams the page aside, ready for then next.

The music slows into a coda. He stands, face to face with her. Out of breath. Sweat, falling with the violin. A smile lines his face as tears begin to fall. His arms wrap around her as they weep of joy. He holds her tight as her arms wrap around him. 'I missed you’ escapes his lips as he writes his final words.

The final chord plays. The pen is raised. The sounds of the bar slowly seep back in as the world around him melts.

Silence to the worldbut a symphony to him.

love poems
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About the Creator

Howl

Just a silly li'l guy from Kansas. :)

Linguist, language teacher, musician.

Check out my music and silly little videos: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCj7jWkxpIJymzSA4MG1_Esg

Insta: boyofyuzu

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