Breif silence followed by a symphony,

and the crowd falls silent, the music plays.

Breaths shorten, heart's racing, we're listening,

as the musician stands upon the stage.

Each note's a shot into our hollow chests,

and all our heartbeat's sync up with the sound.

The notes, the choir, playing as they do best,

playing only when nobody's around.

The music slows, but our heart's never stop.

The choir falls silent, the band bows their heads.

The musician, the star, standing ontop,

but not just the music has become dead.

The music begins, absent of her voice,

our heads fall, and the memories replay.

Nothing left of her, but her wrongful choice,

she's stopped the show, she's fallen off the stage.

An empty piano with lonely keys.

Heads hung low, hearts with no where left to go.

Disappointments are so disappointing.

The music's dead, the musician's alone.