A/N: This was originally going to be a oneshot, but when I sat down to write it, I wrote a poem. It's about the time after Edward left, in his POV.

He sits, inhumanly still

Only his hands moving

Dancing across the keys

Weaving a melody of sorrow and despair

He chokes back non-existent tears

A lump catching in his throat

For he is alone

Alone in his pain

All have abandoned him

Or is it that he has abandoned all?

He doesn't know anymore

Life has long stopped making sense

And the music changes, as his mood changes

It gets angrier, his desperation showing

Before it drifts back into a mournful key

As he registers the fact he has no reason to be angry

He has brought this torment upon himself

If he is going to lay the blame

It is himself to which he should be pointing

The music slowly descends in volume

Growing quieter and quieter

Until it is no more than a whisper

And that fades

As well as the rest of his life

The hope, the love, the meaning

He stands

The music no longer holding any comfort

It is now just a painful reminder of what once was

But is no more