A picture that in some ways already tells a tale, so I thought hard to try and find another angle. It ended up very short, but if you have no words, it tends to be. 😉
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No Words
The words just
wouldn’t come no matter how hard he tried to put them on paper. He’d spent
weeks trying but they weren’t there for him, not anymore.
All his life he had
managed to master them, make them dance to the tunes he wrote, but now they
were gone, swallowed by events he couldn’t comprehend and never believed would
happen.
It had made it all so
pointless: the songs, the music, the words – yes, even the words. They had no
meaning now. And he knew he should be lucky to still have his piano and a place
to play it, many weren’t so lucky.
Now more than ever
they needed the sound of it; they needed the comfort of the tune, the
reassurance of the words, but he couldn’t provide them. His muse was dead, like
the world.
And his words, like the
falling ash, were drifting on the breeze, turning to nothing when caught, just
disintegrating and remaining but a stain – a reminder of what once was.
Maybe they’d return
again like the phoenix, and rise up out of the ashes, when people had
recovered, and when the world had become more upside and less down.
Let's see if I can get my fingers and my brain cells to work together this time. (3rd attempt to post my comment. I botched the first 2 attempts.) The Horizon
ReplyDeleteFlows beautifully. Really like that. Thanks for joining. Glad the words have returned.
Deletehttps://wp.me/p2UwIj-2gt
ReplyDeleteGreat piece.
DeleteHere's a clickable link for other readers: Farewell to the Dunes