Maka

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by minducks

by minducks

                                    
                                              Maka's POV
                          It's been 3 months since I've turned Soul into a Death Scythe.
                          Everyone except for myself found there own paths and took them to the next level. 

                          Here I am right here dwelling over the past. The only thing I have left is music. 
                          The music Soul played. 
                          The colourful music that the black and white keys made. 
                          The music that took me on adventures into the deep dark mysteries of life.
                          Soul moved on . 
                          He's a famous pianist.
                          His music isn't the same though.
                          The music that once filled the halls with mysterious vibes is replaced with emptiness. 
                          I want to help restore the color.
                          No.
                          I need to.
                          Music is lead by feelings.
                          Soul's emptiness needs to be restored. 
                          Soul's emptiness needs to be filled.
                          I will be the one who brings back the colours to his eyes.

                          ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                          Author's note: That was intense.