So, as the piano gradually begins I look up at the endlessly setting sun and it shines purity upon my face. Squinting to protect my perspective, I gaze over the tattered rooftops knowing that only my eyes can peer upon this sight to be seen as it will never be this moment again and I am painfully aware it cannot be shared even if that is what I wanted to do. Soon the soft strums of a guitar gently glide in and the sun fully submerges beneath the dangling tree branches and grossly painted apartment buildings. Quickly I am blanketed by the translucent clouds and faint city stars, each one being a reminder that my present is soon to be my past and I am stuck here knowing my past will be my future unless I rise with the sun again tomorrow and choose to set my new day in motion with a purpose. Not the purpose of life, survival or continuation on the same path as each day before like we all seem to be striving for but instead mending the past and overthrowing all that I have accepted as truths and branded into mind as fact. That is when I hear the heavy beat of a drum or possibly my heart pounding against its boney cage, either way I hear it so clearly and evening has somehow drifted to midnight and the shroud of darkness has become my refuge.