The Symphony of Tragedy

Music fills the air as blood flows like wine;

And from its lips tells the tragedy

Of the mothers and children

Who were mercilessly slain

By the old man that controlled the riverbed.

Broken promises and a family carved from vengeance

Thus sealed the fate of the family who came from

The breath of the wolf’s mighty song.

They fought so valiantly

They were so close to victory that they felt her

Breath on their lips.

Such is the tragedy of hubris and wretched passions

As the music reaches its crescendo,

It fills the silence of the screams

That was strangled in the throats

Of the mother to be,

The child to be,

The son and father they called king

And the mother

Whose very eyes spoke of untold horrors

And heartaches

—

This is the symphony of tragedy;

It does not mean to move,

Only means to leave the audience

To shake and tremble,

To weep and to grieve;

In the symphony of tragedy,

No sins are absolved,

No justice is served,

Only tragedy reigns at the throne.