Poems, general writings, ravings, and other things.

I heard the music playing when i first walked into the crowded room.
Its beauty could not be hidden by the loud murmer of pleasent conversation.
Like a red rose on the aftermath of a battlefield, it shined through.
But the music only sickened me down to the very pit of my stomach.
I followed the sound slowly, weaving through the crowd,
and found myself staring at a man.
Staring at a page.
Staring at a man.
His beauty only mocked me.
For i could not find such joy in such a simple place.
His fingers moving up and down the keys laughed at me.
Ink on a page turned into a beautiful array of sound and meaning.
The piano stared at me.
I took from my pocket an old book of matches.
And lit that god damned thing on fire.
Standing alone on the stage, smiling in the warm glow.