Sonata
This is your song Doctor.
At first there was the introduction of your sonata. It began slowly, though not true to form. Your regeneration was the ninth you had endured, yet was also different. The fires of creation itself coursed through you rather than the more passive changes experienced previously. And while you wanted to set a fast tempo, fate had other ideas. No allegro reached via accelerando, no vivace section. No, you would begin yourself as a lente. Dolce, perhaps, at least in the mind of your companion. But still lente.
Then your exposition began. Your primary theme perhaps, yet missing the developments of the music. You did not see how tooth and claw could lead to wood of torch. You did not hear the theme's recapitulation on Krop Tor or in 2012. No...you cruised along at a steady allegro, rarely changing key. Your music was played in homophony and no amount of polyphony could change this. You would not be monophonic. Never...
...at least until your key changed among the sound of steel and the dissonance of grief struck you.
Thus began your development. New ideas were put forward yet you knew not which to follow. Your new companion in juxtaposition with your old, the rhythm of your life became syncopated. Sometimes you would enter a call and answer section with the new theme. Other times, you would write your own music. Minor, major, never in sync. Too late did you realize what your dissonant melodies had done. Too late did you realize how essential harmony was to your music. And while these realizations did not come too late for you, it still resulted in your theme becoming monophonic for awhile.
Thus began the recapitulation of your life. An old theme returned to your score, like that of the exposition, yet also a tune of its own. Both themes began an accelerando, one major, one minor, yet in harmony. Yet the arpeggio you climbed once again led to dissonance. After one shining moment, a score of music vanished, as if it never existed. You, the composer of this bright new song, erased it. After much thought, you declared codetta. Your times of joint composition was over and now it would only be simple melodies.
But it isn't over Doctor. For you have entered the last part of your sonata. From the light of three suns to Ares' soil, your coda has been written. Your dissonance in time has resounded, the simple music of a harpsichord translating to the everlasting echo of a piano. One that unlike the one present in your development will crush you.
The coda nears its end Doctor.
Your song is ending.
A/N
You know it's funny. Despite having studied music until the end of secondary school, I could barely remember any musical terms and had to look up sonata form on wikipedia to remind myself of its intricacies. And who's to say the Doctor's song is even in sonata form? Could be a rondo. Or in binary, or in ternary, or in song form...
...head hurts.
