A poem inspired by Jhin

The Virtuoso’s Madness

The beauty of the world, the beauty of death,

As each character enters the stage, so vastly immense,

They play their role and act out their part

And I, the virtuoso, the master of all, the genius of such art.

I hear them calling! The inspiration! The audience!

I paint this canvas presented in front of me,

With each detail in mind, what a beautiful sight to see.

With the backdrop prepared, flowers positioned perfectly .

The stage is set now! Queue the actors! We’re ready!

Conductor, queue the music! Let me hear such sweet melodies sing!

As I mark the actors, manipulating their actions,

Like a puppeteer, pulling their strings to my satisfaction.

I watch them dance and sing, as I light up the stage

Full of blooming flowers and lights that amaze.

You there! More emphasis in your voice! Dance like there’s no tomorrow!

With each passing second, the passion builds up inside.

“More colors! More flowers! More voices I need!” cries the inspiration inside my mind.

And with these instruments in hand, I execute such tasks flawlessly so

Framing the characters within these tools, letting my creativity flow.

There! As the crescendo peaks, I need more…more….More!

And as time passes, it is sad to say, that the end is to come.

Ah! But to finish it in such a way! You there, you are the one!

To end my show in such a way, there in the spotlight you are.

To die such a tragic death, but so beautiful, the most magnificent by far.

The curtain calls. Oh how beautiful…

Oh... An encore…