***For all the virtuosos’ and hearts that been left over***
Our love- how revolutionary
Like the eighteenth century
Dramatic and full of frivolous neoclassic.
Cadences of a short-lived creation
We both, feel into the supernova of the music sheet
Amongst the rests, the notes and the crescendos
We began with grave- our singular dark beginnings
Creating our own melody. Allegro and full of sparks!
Flowing into becoming the epitome of cantabiles’- warm,
Melodious and sweet like the romantics
We reached rondo- devilish and still quick like our beginnings
Except, now you found a new and a more harmonious phrase.
‘Tis not the end of the sheet yet.
Some more notes have yet to be played.
But our entire music was always grave. With occurrences
Of melodies in the manuscripts we tried to fill- all so bereft.
And now reaching the inevitable doom- with your fortissimo
Leaving me bare- my heart in fermata.
You unkind soul! You knew I loved Beethoven, especially
His pathetique and you left it in me, only
With your bittersweet memories.