I.  

I sat.
	Cold.
		Alone.
				In the dark.
					Only Beethoven for company
								While everyone else slept.

I sat
	Burying myself with music
		The saddest song ever written…………

		A blanket of sorrow that sang my heart’s song.

The miracle of that night
	Was that I saw
		Beauty in the Sadness.

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II.

In my dreams …..
                        	 …. that music is mine.

Not for commercial gain
Not talent for talent’s sake.
Not vanity nor fame.

But for a voice.

A voice that sings simultaneous songs
Without getting mired in the trivialities of words

The voice of my soul, not just my intellect.

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