He serenely sat there, the whole of him with partly shut eyes. His fingers supple against the keys that even the squall will impede and be timid in the presence of what he is conveying. He would never think life would be so envious of his distinctiveness and his creations. The sole thought of his beloved envelopes his entire being, unaware of the occurrences around him. He whispered her name like a touch of the wind and subconsciously choked a little sob. He lingered, playing with utmost ardor, his moist eyes on his best production to date… he named it, The Cord.  

She had lain buoyant on the pure lucid stream when her cotton soft hair entangled itself in his crest. His intricate cut administered to hold her at his bay. They instantaneously knew they belong… mind make out no reason as their hearts conversed. She tests the water, pouring upon his unfeasible markings. She began to ascend onto his delicate wood planks and find herself comfortable. Unhurriedly the fear subsides and the flaring passion settled in. Complete bliss pursued and there’s no room for vagueness, only the certainty of their devotion…. of what is exactly right from day one.

There comes a moment when they experienced a hazy fog which moved from one eyes to another. One having the shutters closed tight while the other searches for a way to let glow crept back in. He has splintered occasionally and she made few scratches of her own. But they believed it will only bring their frame together… if not, closer. He loved her like a blind Romeo and her dark luminous eyes when gazed up to him would fill one’s heart with faith and purity. Time feels like an eternity when they’re masked in a shadow and when their mind gets filled to capacity with oppressive cobwebs.  

Equipped they must for the ingress trials that may come their way. For there will be times when they will find themselves walking in the midst of a sandpaper field. There will be raging tempest waiting to provoke their pledge. Or there will be a conspirator behind them frustratingly splits them away from each other. There will be challenges alright, and prepare they should. Maybe after a few crosses of its path if they came out whole, their souls will become extremely tougher. Calluses will be reached making it backbreaking for something to generate the heights of their intensity again.

But if destiny plays its major role and stipulate everything in contrast, they will fight no more and give in eventually. She would of course be exceptionally adamant, as stubborn as she is. She will keep sitting in this purplish haze even if she sense his footsteps weaken out. Hope hovering over affliction, she will still be there, ready for his call for the next lifetime. Maybe she was the dream that heaven lent him all, but only for a while. She would look up in the sky and whisper through the wind: “Remember me with all the joy, with every skip of your heart… and The Cord that bind us.” 

And so the sun quietly situates its fading flame on the horizon. And the soft continues hum of the piano from afar wept to a full stop.