Classical Notes

 Debussy, Claire De Lune:

When we were younger we had dreams.

We had hope.

We were full of it.

Our eyes gleamed of it.

It was all we ever saw.

Day and night.

Night and day.

These dreams would lull us to sleep.

Singing a sweet hyme.

A sweet song full of glitter.

Glitter that had endless sparkles.

Sparkles that only we could see.

But as we got older…

As we got older…

No.

We did not think about growing old.

We only thought about these dreams.

Dreams as sweet as honey.

Honey as sweet as dreams.

Because when all you do is dream,

Everything seems sweet.

Nocturne, Chopin:

A cold day it was, the breeze seemed to cut through my skin.

It created rough calluses that reflected my endless thoughts.

They haunted me like the girl in my dreams.

For some reason she would never leave me alone,

She chased and chased until she could chase no more.

And when she could chase no more, she would crawl.

Crawl towards me she would, with a strange smile on her face.

Not actually on her face.

It was plastered on.

And when I tripped in front of a mirror I looked in horror.

That girl was staring right at me.

With the same cold grin carved into her face.

Waltz of the Flowers:

The garden had an unfamiliar glow to it,

It seemed to dance in the wind, showered in bright colors.

The song they played was more beautiful than the finest rose.

The garden lured me in as do most pretty things.

It played a tune that I couldn’t quite get enough of.

So I started dancing with them.

My grey face began to brighten, it was now a bright grey.

A grey full of life that although I could not see, I could feel it was there.

Because this was a feeling that I had never felt before.

A feeling of euphoria and bliss.

I was happy.

Happy? An emotion that I once could not think of.

An emotion I could never imagine.

An emotion expressed by others except for me.

An emotion I heard could be described by the color yellow.

An emotion I am urrently…

feeling!