Beethoven made me do it.

As I listen to the Moonlight Sonata,

 I drift a little,        

I am dismayed

How could this piano,

with no words or ears to hear me

can feel what I feel?

So it begins, slowly, quietly

every key unlocks an emotion

my emotion

depressed and melancholy,

there is purpose

There is something hidden and breaking to the surface

with rhythmic certainty, but only after period of suppression.

Each note gives abstract foreshadow to the next. .

each note has meaning and position,

strokes on canvas, blues and greys

depict a gritty unsure story

Dark shadows casting over the timid grass,

day is overcast by mist.

It is the fog of love

waiting to be burnt away

by the first rays of reality

Not quite hopeless but with little hope. . .

what is underneath

what is suppressed

 not shown to anyone

but heard by everyone

How could I be so pleasant on the outside,

but not within?

I find myself, disgusting, careless, and mischievous,

and yet fantastic.

My perspective must be tainted…

but who gets to decide?

What is underneath?

Am I just a character, willed by my ego and my heart?

I am told that is terrible,

uncontrollable vile passion.

Don’t be controlled by your human desire.

Don’t give in to your temptations.

Woah unto you!!

Behold I say unto you!

Stay away from this and this and that and this!

Or be forsaken!

I am surrounded by rules and decision and consequences,

I can’t turn without being confronted.

If I choose the path less traveled by,

 then I have hurt someone around me.

But If I don’t then I am either hurt or unfulfilled.

I want to be a peacemaker, and to be good.

I would never want to bring pain on a soul,

not anyone or anything on gods green earth.

I try my best, to do what is best.

Although Im unsure what the best option could be?

Is best my selfish satisfaction,

or is best my unselfish attempts to please those around me?

Who is looking out for me?

when I need someone there,

I doubt there is anyone,

this realization makes me feel alone.

If that is not just rationalization,

a justifying reason,

to let me do what I please,

then it is the best way.

They are worried.

What will he do?

I see this,

I am worried too. . .

I don’t know what this path leads to,

but I am not turning back.

The fear that is alive in me,

the greatest fear of dying,

to me,

is to never have lived.