Moon Light Sonata

She sits at the old piano, the music long gone from its keys. The first breathe of life that it has had in years. The strings shake as bloody mangled hands press its keys. The wood is consumed with dust. The room in which it lives is dead. Boxes of broken promises and forgotten dreams scale the walls. An old rock less rocking chair sits in a corner. The sound of laughing children could once be heard through the music. Pictures of dead family members in frail wooden picture frames shoved between broken dreams left to be forgotten. The moth eaten curtains try to keep the blaring sun’s eye from seeing the death that lay spattered on the unswept floor. She still sits playing her once loved piano through strained eyes and a blood stained face. Unmoved inside by the struggle that just took place she stares blankly into the eyes of her once true loved one. Just as dead and empty they stare back. The music of the old forgotten piano surrounds them. The burden of life is too great. Maybe we can finally be happy. And at this thought the cuts on her wrists ran dry. The final drops of life spilled over the dusty keys, her hands stuck in the movement of the music.