And the song ends. The bleachers empty. The lights on the stage are off. I cry in my loneliness. Oh God, an eternal song, to be in a chorus forever. Why does heaven touch the earth if it is only to disappear in a breath?
I cannot dream, and so I play and pluck my strings. The lights are out, but I close my eyes and listen to my hands play. No meaning, no purpose arises, but the demons are driven away. I do not know when sleep comes, nor feel myself lying down, when the music takes me away.
Tale Told 