Song - 23

He lived in perpetual sorrow and he had no joy. The sorrow flooded in from the earth, from the air, from the rain. From the music. He borrowed of this sorrow and lived it in full, expelling the excess, which there was never a lack of. The sorrow flowed in and poured out, mingling with his own. It left through his heart, through his eyes, through his hands. He made his own music and he let the sorrow flood into each note, filling it to bursting before sending it floating gently out the window and releasing it to the winds. Then one day, the sorrow stopped.

He stopped playing his song and began anew. The bloodstained earth grew rich and brown, the ceaseless rain stopped falling and the angry clouds parted, creating a patchwork blue. Into this new song he poured all the grief he had ever known and he sent it away once more. These notes held so many tears and so much sorrow that they destroyed the last cities of men. And into this new song he introduced joy. He felled the last great ruins and divinations of our kind and he made the world whole once more.