Trills of Betrayal

Standing in the middle of the chaos was he. The blank stare ahead was seemingly a lifetime. In his eyes, the world had stopped dead from motion the moment the impending realization hit him. There was dead silence. And without another sound, a word... nay a question resonated in his mind.

Why?

There was a certain pain in his heart that he could not even begin to explain. A certain anguish in his passive eyes that mirrored the busy and empty world he traversed upon. And a certain torment in his soul as his mind continued to race-- searching for answers to whatever question his over-driven mind could conjure.

How could this happen? and to me...

It was as if everything was frail enough to crumble before him. So he stands in the middle of chaos, pondering. Not daring to make the slightest movement for even he himself could possibly crumble down. This was his Sadness.

He did not deserve such mockery to his kindness. Or the treachery to his trust. Or even the trickery to his person, causing the loss of his loyalty. This was his Rage. The very memory of the betrayal sent shudders down his spine.

Should I act on it?

But vengeance never truly bode anyone good. For the longest time, he had been very patient and considerate-- a true human being. He was not to stoop down to the level of the perpetrator.

Snapped back to reality, he blinks. The second had passed since the realization dawned to him.

Nothing would be the same from then on.

Vestige of Contentment

Let me sit untouched and still for I am in need of saving.

I quicken the senses with vibrant colors that have more or less been taken for granted.... Til such a time I be tainted with the dull color of age that I be far from saving.

Many would say that quality comes with age but what age offers is not strength but frailty.

So... wither I away...

But ere I go and see me for what I am. I make no mark in time as I make no mark to you; I have already gone before you even knew.

Although the pressing question is that: Were you ever sated?

Ephemeral

I could suffer a thousand deaths for the very ideas that I hold in my mind.

For as long as I am given the chance to believe, I live.... For in my mind, I am strong, I am indestructible, I am supreme. I am reassured that in my mind, with myself...

I am safe

Andrei shifts to the keys of Adagio E Cantabile. The low notes that seem to continually resonate in his very soul was consuming-- it had reflected that very night.

His gentle brown eyes move at the pace swifter than his hands that quickly read the notes on the score sheet before him. His music was, though fleeting, had a certain beauty. A beauty that even in its imperfection showed his passions, his character, his humanity-- his entirety.

But for the past several nights, nearing his day of birth, a recurring faltered memory of his mother's voice was all he could think of. "...Ronobe, the answers you seek lay within the darkness in you."

Oh mother...

he thought ...if you only knew how hard it had been for me...

Andrei continues to play the piano amidst this throbbing pain in his head. The notes before him had blurred... he suddenly drops headfirst on the elegant instrument and coughs. The first and only instance where the instrument's solid and beautiful structure would ever be tainted with a violent spatter of crimson.

...yes... this would never cease to plague me.

Andrei's mind had thought as his hand tries to reach for the golden cross on his neck. The clock somewhere chimed twelve in the morning. Andrei let out a long pained scream and thus falls on the floor, recoiling and shuddering. Clawing the hard marble floor, he screams. Although no matter how much he did, the surround was eerily quiet-- as though the walls and the night were absorbing the slightest sound. Heady and pained, he lay still on the cold floor....

Although something out of the ordinary lay before his eyes. Vision blurred, he could only make out a long black object stained in dark red before he passed out.

Could it be? The very thing he dreaded as a child has come to collect him.

What could I possibly be?

Cradled by the cold, you always have given warmth.

To have set smiles from face to face. each lip was tainted by a kiss. Your rich scent has often inspired poets of times creating endless literature about the world unknown. Inspiration from that gushing wave of utter intoxication, the desire of that gentle sweetness. For of no likeness is your sweetness.

Incomparable to the rest.

Nothing could truly explain what you are.

What, oh what could I possibly be? ü

I'm Alive!

Ah yes... quickens the senses. It is with songs like these that makes life worth living.