Um... It's mostly just a bunch of fluffy words with no real substance, but I still think it sounds nice/cool/pretty good? Not sure about the name, though.
Maestro, Please...
Sour notes clang and echo against damp walls. They jumble together in a glorious mess of pure sound, shrieking into the night in crystal harmony. Silence is plucked abruptly from the thickness and made to blossom under long, limber fingers.
They are thin and fragile yet ferociously blunt in their hard movements as they leap and bound across black and white. The contrasts melt into each other, and a swirling chorus pours forth, wave after gliding wave. Biting and sweet and cuttingly melancholy, the beauty is muted. It batters vainly against the wall of an instrument long unused. But the heartbreaking quality slides like liquid beneath, clear to the one who pauses in appreciation.
Muscles clench and the body rocks with the restrain that its voice contradicts. Smoothness is cut short by sharp staccatos and jarring noise is washed away with gentle rhythms of deep pain. The torn and bleeding soul is split wide, gaping wound spread agonizingly bare for the world to see.
Raw emotions erupt violently, tearing apart the intricate dam constructed around them. It is volcanic in its tortured power, and anyone caught in its path would be instantly burned. The bitterness clashes with old anger, hidden pain, and fresh betrayal, sour and sickening in the heart. Acid tears unable to fall from dry eyes drip fat and heavy on the soul as clumsy, clunking wood transforms simple sound into elegance and righteous indignation. It is dangerously smooth and rippling.
Suddenly, the flame dies with an abrupt snuff of rage. Something sweet and longing rises gently instead, the underlining pain still a constant theme throughout. It is slow and speaks of a quiet sorrow laden heavy with regrets and untouched by the healing tempers of time. It hums timidly, no longer bold or reckless – a sharp change of personality. Slower, slower, bittersweet, aching with wishes of the denied. Lower, lower, until there is no more.
Silence creeps in stealthily on the wings of dying dreams, smothering the last of the laments. The final note wails morosely into the night. Drained limbs fall back limply.
A soft gasp peeks out from the cloaking darkness. The silent shadow witnesses the beautiful broken soul, shocked grief clear in its stance.
Piercing green whirls, searching the black intently. But the room is empty. The impromptu audience is already gone, leaving nothing but the scuff of leather against cloth and betrayed trust in its wake.
A bit short, but tell me what you think... and just so you know, I'm not above grovelling for complements...XP