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The keys reverberate an echo of my phalanges which used to press down on the weight of

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each key. Keys each unlocking the vibrations of my heartstrings. I have not touched the

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piano in millennia. Churning from human to liquid, slowly my feet have become a stone.

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Later or later I too fear I will become stone. As long as I am kept from playing, I will

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become stone. As no longer the echoes of my songs kept the blood of my tubes and horns

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alive. Without the song, I will not live but a few more lives long.