Work Text:
Standing across the square
A violinist, bow raised
Onlookers turned, music played
No, keep going
Turn away
Before—
Oh
So beautiful
Just this part he promised
Not a note more
Sound greeted his ears
Caressing fondly
Gentle nostalgia
So achingly familiar
Beckoning in
His native tongue
Stay
No
No, he should really
Turn and run
Too late
Blooming crescendo
Towering above
Too strong now
Overpowered
Held fast
Ensnared in
Seductive siren song
He felt it
Spreading
A rising delight
While deep inside
Grew sinking dread
Mine
Music murmured
Heady compulsion
Steady rhythmic pounding
Driving deep into his mind
Urging him, respond
Hands flew up
Clasped fast over ears
Get out!
Out of my head!
He would not allow
Could not give in
He had fought too hard
To let it win
Safely cocooned
He peered from shadow
As along the street
Siren’s call drew
A once meagre audience
Gradually grew
Mindless devotees of wonder and awe
Tiny mirrors refracting brilliance back
Their adoring faces shone
Worship and hunger
A desperate greed
For what the musician knew
And they did not
Go! Now!
Its attention elsewhere
His moment for escape
Yet, he remained
Teeth clenched
Jaw sore
Tortured witness to it all
Head swimming
Inundated with memory
He had commanded such power
Before
Drawn out dreams, beauty, and desire
A hidden god, revered and feared
Hymns and pleas offered upon his altar
Before
But then
Damnation
Descent so final and ruthless
Perhaps…
A way out
Perhaps…
He could return
Perhaps…
Through music
He could soar
Once
More
Lips parting
Tongue against teeth
Breath filling
Lungs beneath
Hands lowered—in rushed
Eager question in sound
This time, he conceded
Deep down
He had always known
It was natural
He was complete
Lost but now found
Every inch of him replete
With soft, sweet relief
Come night, he bade it
Sing again for him
Spin stories and tales
Share exquisite delight
Music acquiesced
Once prolonged silence
Now only brief rest
Overture sang
Weaving enchanted fable
Maiden, lovely and fair
Her hero, the brave heir
Two melodies intertwined
Parallel, they climbed
Higher
Higher
When entered
Third part in contrast
So lonely, so solitary
He faltered
Too much
Too heavy
A downward spiral
He fought, pleaded
Not this
Wrenched scales and cadence
Anything but this
But music struck back
Claws vicious and jaded
Exposing the finale
Himself unmasked, rejected
Defeated
Flesh ripped straight through
No!
He refused!
As screams swelled
He fought for control
Grasping threads anew
Begin again, begging
A new end
But he already knew
Resonating between ribs
His very first language
Sourced deep within
Too intimate
Too close
Striking true
A perfect reflection of him
Torn away
Stumbling back
Hands out to catch
Loud crack
Pain like flint
Fire igniting within
Fuel for more
Atrocities of his make
It began with ink
Carved deep into pages
Not tears this time
But blood
Each note malformed, debased
Contemptuous harmonic distortion
If it wanted his pain,
He would cut it off
He, the maestro
Composer, chief, boss
It would listen to him
Follow his lead
Or else be lost
Broken hands, harsh, brutal
Snatching
And scraping
Coercing pitches and
Subjugating rhythms, imposing
Rests
Refusing
Breath, contorting modes
And disjointing
Chords, snapping
Ties and
Tearing slurs, he would
Prove it could not
Stop him, misshapen
Lips twisted in
Grin, as it
Begged, softer please, he shut his
Ears, his mask
Displayed
He flooded
It with
His fire, pinned it
Down, forced notes even higher when
It
Responded in
Kind, he strangled it, calloused
Fingers, muting
Voice
Mutilating
Desire
Again, across the same
Damn square
A cellist, seated in a rickety chair
This time, when
Music rose
Siren’s call stirred
And crowd flared
Diminished colours drifted
Tired and old
Flat tones and dull notes staggered
So empty, wretched, cold
Feeble voice floated
Weakly whispered
Pleading softly in
Language so ancient
Once he had known
Now ineffective
Falling foreign words against closed ears
What had hither sustained him
Completely cleaved
Turning to leave
Indifferent pace
Footsteps rigid
Movements stoic
Feeling nothing as
All around him spread
A creeping despair
Seeping out
Extinguishing prayer
While inside him
Deep within
Decaying and rotting lay
Forgotten funeral pyre
Disfigured mangled corpse
His own murdered desire