The World of Myth Magazine

The symphony plays out like a musical battle,
The conductor slashes the air.
Up and down, left and right,
Like a knight in black tuxedo.

Delicate fingers pluck at harp strings, like archers poised and ready,
Firm hands with sticks pound at the drums,
Gently and softly,
Never losing the melody.

The somber beats reverberate on the walls.
Pa-dum, pa-dum, pa-dum.

The glow of the stage illuminates the players,
Making them look angelic.

As the music ends.
The conductor stops.
The violins stop.
The piano plays its final note.

Together they have enthralled the watchers
Who then stand up to cheer.
As the conductor turns and bows
And they bid their audience adieu.

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