Piano

An attempted articulation of racing thoughts

On, upon, a pa(w)n  in pain. Piano.
I was the promised virtuoso, entitled this aria.
How, now, have I slipped between the eighty-eight?
Ivory, once stolen valor, twice fails to protect.
I find my delicato imprisoned by your affretando.
Be alive, aver, alive!
Live clear, crave not the average orchestration, inhale perfection.
A liar, you orchestrate my once-celebrated production, I obey your metronome.
Methodical, maniacal, manipulations per stroke, count, thrash.
Missing no beat: again, against, aghast, agony.
Faltering, I find disjoint, discord, cacophony.
Close behind, I race the ascent of this cunning clavier.
Scaling the heights of a two-dimensional magnitude: octave, octave, ought to have.
Ought to have this, that, ought to have not to have obeyed.
Piano.