My dearest muse,
you cannot understand the pains in my heart,
nor could you even imagine.
I try to deny it,
but no matter the song I play in high,
your image is the one I see amongst the notes.
You are my light,
my reason for living,
and in my secret hideaway,
the masterpiece I play so frequently.
I pray you,
live and laugh like it was your last.
One day we shall meet again beloved,
or live alone amongst the sea of our society.
Until then I remain your loyal companion,
in tortured solitude.
-A
