Ancient with a layer of grey dust on its base, patiently waiting
Resting in its velvet bed, awaiting for a moment to be held one last time
A dark beauty, forced to hold back the talent of an individual
Like a tattered book, old and forgotten
Until one day
The velvet bed slides out of its cage
Slowly being opened
And it finally sees the sunlight
A pleasant swoosh is heard as the layer of dust that had once gathered vanishes by a single hand
Plink, a beautiful note is plucked, like the sound of rain as it hits a roof
Grabbing the bow
Sliding it against the strings
It is now a songbird, luring people to a restful peace, like soothing lullabies sung at night
And after what seems like too long
It’s placed back in its velvet bed
And locked away
But it knows
The violin knows
That it won’t be waiting too long before it is played once again