• My fingers glided up and down the contrasting colors of black and white.
    The melody lifted off the ground
    And rose into the air.
    Just as the dynamics came to a pinnacle,
    The sound dropped again.
    And so followed the mutterings of the audience.
    The harsh, minor portion emulated the thrashing
    Of the glossy ivories.
    With monotonous clangs,
    The magic of the music lingered.
    And became a scarcely audible masterpiece.
    As the temper rose, the music pierced the sky
    And resonated like the thunder on a stormy night
    From the heavens.