As Time Slows Around Us [Poetry]

A Symphony, A Quartet, A Duet, And A Solo

A lonely violin.
It plays with no audience
Willing to guidance
It's exsistance.

But once,
Not long ago it seems,
A symphony of schemes,
Gleaming strings,
Untold of themes,
Silent regimes.

The symphony rings in my ears,
So loud!
So loud!
So loud!
Yet now it is plowed
With the sound
Of quietude.

The symphony of hundreds,
Dwindled to a quartet of four.
But those four,
Distinguished,
But relinquished.
But still,
Those distinguished but relinquished people
Convey the emotions,
The sounds,
And truity of the raging ocean.

Now,
A duet.
A comparison of high and low,
And it still has so much to show.

But the duet will
Never amount to the quartet,
Just as the quartet will
Never amount to the symphony.

That ocean turned emotionless,
And thus the duet was finished.

One lonely singer,
One lonely violin,
Plays and plays on a whim,
A mystical grim.

The lonely violing will never
Be as loud as the symphony,
But the symphony will never
Convey such emotions as the soloist.

The lonely violin will never
Sound like the ocean,
Like the quartet.
But the quartet will never
Show the sincerity
Of the lonely violin,
Playing alone,
No audience to show,
No chance of its story
Being unfolded in an unwinding
Treasury of true storytelling.