The pianist's bleeding hands, torture the keys as they try to
unlock the reason. Her blood-covered... hands... well, you couldn't even tell
that they were hands. More like the feet of a tortured animal. Deformed and
twisted, no longer humane. The pianist seeks the truth. The reason for their
existence, howling along with this so-called melody which was perturbed itself
due to the pressure. Moving along the board slowly, then sudden outbursts of
rage taken out on their piano. No one knew what to expect. The spectator's are just
there, pretending to enjoy the music, fooled by the term 'classic'. The pianist
continued with their sorrow-filled serenade until they finally came to an end.
The spectators clap; they too had blood on their hands.
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