I'm sitting isolated in a dark pitch black space. I can not see anything, but I can feel a distant sense of despair flowing around the space, and right through me. I can not feel myself, it is as if I am not even there. I'm just a memory, a lost hope, a ghost with every purpose in the world, and no purpose at all.
From one end of the dark, a lonesome saxophone begins to play. A lagging melody, pushing its way on through, creating a path of its own through the darkness. The music develops a dark red color, like a cloud, or a puff of smoke, careful not to blend once more with the eerie darkness. The yearning sounds cry for help, as they spiral and move about the space, only further tangling
From one end of the dark, a lonesome saxophone begins to play. A lagging melody, pushing its way on through, creating a path of its own through the darkness. The music develops a dark red color, like a cloud, or a puff of smoke, careful not to blend once more with the eerie darkness. The yearning sounds cry for help, as they spiral and move about the space, only further tangling
themselves, only pushing further into the sorrowful confusion.
Here, here is where the broken dreams lie, abused and tormented in the face of reality. Here is where they fall flat and disappear. Blend. I look at myself, the space now slightly illuminated by the dark red cloud. I realize, I'm not there at all. There are no hands, no feet, no body. I am disappearing too, away into the darkness.
I begin to move. I can not tell where I am going, whether I'm going forward or back, up or down, and gravity is nonexistent. I simply know I am moving, moving quickly, for there must be a way to keep from disappearing. Suddenly, I see something shining. It is golden in color, and in the darkness, it shines like a rising sun, adorned by the red and orange tints of the sky around it. I run to it and stand before it.
It is a saxophone, laying plainly on the floor, but golden all the same. I pick it up and feel it's gentle curves, the holes and the unused mouth piece. As I hold the saxophone in my hands, the slow moving red cloud from the other saxophone's crying tones surround me. I've never played a saxophone before, and I don't think I know how, but I put the mouthpiece to my lips anyway.
I begin to play the instrument, as a fine rush of emotion runs through my body, my breath, and my fingertips. Emotion becomes a note, a note becomes music. Music becomes a song and a song becomes light. And light... Light is a dream that lives.
Here, here is where the broken dreams lie, abused and tormented in the face of reality. Here is where they fall flat and disappear. Blend. I look at myself, the space now slightly illuminated by the dark red cloud. I realize, I'm not there at all. There are no hands, no feet, no body. I am disappearing too, away into the darkness.
I begin to move. I can not tell where I am going, whether I'm going forward or back, up or down, and gravity is nonexistent. I simply know I am moving, moving quickly, for there must be a way to keep from disappearing. Suddenly, I see something shining. It is golden in color, and in the darkness, it shines like a rising sun, adorned by the red and orange tints of the sky around it. I run to it and stand before it.
It is a saxophone, laying plainly on the floor, but golden all the same. I pick it up and feel it's gentle curves, the holes and the unused mouth piece. As I hold the saxophone in my hands, the slow moving red cloud from the other saxophone's crying tones surround me. I've never played a saxophone before, and I don't think I know how, but I put the mouthpiece to my lips anyway.
I begin to play the instrument, as a fine rush of emotion runs through my body, my breath, and my fingertips. Emotion becomes a note, a note becomes music. Music becomes a song and a song becomes light. And light... Light is a dream that lives.
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