The Erhu

An oddly shaped instrument,
bent and battered with age.
coated in thick layers of dust,
trapped within a silent cage.

The abandoned Erhu mourned.

Just like a surviving soldier,
who is no longer at its prime.
one of the few that remains,
fallen behind over time.

Something so valued had faded.

A key to a whole other world,
a world where freedom reigns.
The strict world would vanish,
no longer restricted by chains.

One day the Erhu had resurrected.

Its black surface shone,
like the silver light of the moon.
They clashed in harmony,
reviving a long, lost tune.

The silent atmosphere was defeated.