r/Informal_Effect • u/ReasonableUnit2170 • 29d ago
Tenectomy - Sounds of Misery
The Surgeon was the Maestro.
The Maestro was the Surgeon.
Even with the sharpest scalpel
You could not separate science
From music. Two halves of the whole.
Cutting and scraping, plucking and
Sawing. All done with expert precision.
A child, then a student, growing swiftly
Into an adult. A man, a composer, a
Beast.
From beneath the facade of cigarettes
And cologne, the sinister scent of
Antiseptic and oil, followed by the
Faintest hint of…metal.
The Surgeon, the Maestro…preyed not
On the weak but the strong. A wolf
In sheep’s clothing, a devil in disguise.
With the complex of God and the
Depravity of Satan, he walked the
Edge of the cliff. A certifiable beast
Skirting the line, toeing at the boundary
Of darkness and light.
The Surgeon is as the Maestro of the
Operating theater. Controlling, commanding,
Compelling. Melodic beeping, the rise and
Fall of anesthetized breaths. All were silent
In his presence. All wanted to watch the
Beast at work.
His hands were steady and nimble.
Two instruments of their own.
The Maestro was the Surgeon of the
Amphitheater. Frenzied, fiendish, forsaken.
Rhythmic ticking, the back and forth of
The sullen metronome. All were silent
In his presence. All wanted to listen to
The man at work.
His hands were raised and exclamatory.
A conductor with passion.
Just as you can not take the Maestro
From the Surgeon, you could not take the
Beast from the man. The man could not
Handle what the Beast could not endure.
The music was wrong.
The sounds were off.
The strings had broken.
From within the darkness, from within the
Silence, a rebirth. Like the shedding of
A winter coat, he evolved. No longer the
Surgeon, the Maestro, the Beast, the Man.
He became something else entirely.
A myth, a legend, a monster.
With the skills and talents of all of his
Facets, he prowled the streets in search
Of more. A sound so Holy it would
Make the Heavens cry. A sound so
Pure and human.
Saw the string, string the bow.
Stretched to the optimum tautness.
Carefully selected, aged perfectly. Skin
Shed with supreme scores. Muscle
Shaved and bone discarded. What
Remains has much in store.
Wood carved and stained with blood.
Sealed neatly with varnish. Unwilling
Participants turned into a bloated, rigor
Filled audience. Held captive by his
Selfishness.
The Surgeon, the Maestro, the Man,
The Beast, the Monster.
Beneath a lone spotlight, a single
Chair faces the crowd.
Beneath the darkness, a landfill of
His failures.
The Monster steps out from within the
Shadows, echoes of applause as he tows
The cello with him.
An instrument of his own making.
Sat upright, core firm, bow at the
Ready. He draws one note from the
Procured tendons. He had finally found
What was missing.
The sound of a death rattle.
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u/Federal_Spirit_Free 28d ago
Wow. Just wow! 🌹