[Untitled for now]

She bowed and offered him the music to her soul. Taking it gently, his hands brushing hers, she arose to see his eyes not observing the notes but taking in the last glimpses he would have of her face. She whispered to him in a desperate manner, "When you hear this song play, think of me and my love for you. Think of how I care for you and how much I hurt without you. Think of my lips touching yours gently not because you are beautiful but because you are kind to me, because of everything you are that makes me love you so. Think of my tears falling onto your cheeks as I can not bear to let you go." With nothing but remorse in his eyes of a life lived too incomplete, he caressed her cheek with a hand warmed by blood still full of trying. Though blood does not sway the heart's decision to cease pumping. Nor does the mind have the power to persuade the soul that life meant no cruelties; not to this extent. Drifting through the air, series of notes strike ivory keys. Softer then louder with each step of his foot away from her. No movement produced from her thin limbs but trembles of escaping strength. Abandoned knees collapse, followed by keeper, scraping the floor through once soft fabric. A shadow now with details of blurred color, tilted as she grows weaker and tears fall to cold stone so close to her cheek. Delicate music fills her mind with the accompaniment of her lovers voice softly in her ear, "Take care, my little angel." The last note echoes as the world she knew turns to dark.