Thursday, May 28, 2015

The Piano

A musician at heart,he saw the world in black and white,
Propped against the wall,she made a stunning sight.

What had fate orchestrated,he couldn't stay apart,
For how did she know the melodies of his heart ?

She sighed and moaned at his softest touch,
On her cold skin,his nimble finger's dance was such.

Her heartbeats and his melody,a song came to synthesise,
Building bridges to harmony as tones would rise.

He put his foot down,he wanted this to sustain,
Trebles on his mind,put on the line by pain.

His one true accompanist,instrumental in his success,
Without her a staccato act,the world had failed to impress.

He hit the right notes,they had struck a chord,
A prelude to a union ,the world stopped to applaud.


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