Pianist has always been my favourite virtuoso. I once dreamt of having someone serenade me with a beautiful music played on the piano. I was trapped within a crowd of waltz dancers whom faces are etched with emptiness as if their souls were taken away by each note of music being played. Faceless with no eyes to see but for a moment, the music stopped --they paused. And I felt as if they were looking straight at me, every single one of those tortured dancing men and women. With the silence surrounded us, they craved for my help, begging me to get their feet to stop dancing. I shuddered in fear but as the music began to play once more, the art of waltz continues, unwillingly by them. They seemed to be lost in the music again, it was haunting them in a strange way that I could not understand why. I tried to help but it was no use as they could not hear me --they could only hear the background music. And then, the orchestral music disappeared and the dancers were flown ...
Poetic thoughts from a poetess.