The rumba bass keeps tapping on its rhythm as the jazzy piano tickled by the melody with a touch of a woman and the smooth beats of the drums as the voice of the silent lover echoed throughout the entire symphony. As emotions rolls out into the pavement of the cold harsh streets, the girl just stares at the reflection in the broken window of an abandon building and walk away in pain and distress. The band of souls sways slowly behind the sad lonely girl who is searching for a peace of mind. She tries to tighten her velvet scarf as the waves of chilling winds sweeps the city’s corner with a cold reality. The images of her past begins to flashes in her wet hazel brown eyes as her pale pink lips trembles with each thought.
The nightingale spreads its wings and hover above in the free sky as the day transits into night, singing its song full of history and glory as the lonely young figure stares at it in envy. Envy with the freedom and regret less flight the little bird has. As the day comes to an end, the girl walks towards the golden leafs covered park wishing for a different way to end it. Her wavy brown hair falls from its steady house in the red hand woven head warmer as her fragile little fingers combs through to restyle the hair to allow better preservation of heat as she prepares for the cold dark starry night. Each breath she takes taps the keys on the piano, each step she takes away from her past and into the night rattles the strings of the cello and each movements she takes creates a ripple on the surface of the drums as her thoughts gives a soulful voice to the song of her life.
There is a light at the end of the oak street, where she stares up in the vanity shines of the moon and her tears begins to roll down across her frozen cheeks as she hugs herself in the blue tunnel of the playground hiding from the world. Even thought she body lays there in the middle of the cruel world but her mind would escape like always into her tree house where she lives free from everything and not bothered by anyone for she is in her tree where the guitars tickled and the harmonicas whistled to create a perfect morning symphony.