Symphonic Desolation

Melodic voices permeate the air,

A solemn echo of your piercing stare.

The strings resound in mournful tune,

Yet I presume you shall loathe me soon.

The woodwinds sigh, a wistful plea,

Yet your embrace is lost to me.

Amidst the grandeur of the concert hall,

I bow my head to forget it all.