The spell
...
Here he
comes
Formally
dressed
A violin in
the hand
And with a
smile on the face.
Seats himself,
as he does;
Amidst the
loud applauses—
People cheer
him up
He hears
smiles but replies not.
As the show
begins
The violin
is played
Spirits are lifted,
solaced
And silence
abides the place.
Tunes,
played one by one
A note comes
after the other
Three hours
pass thus
But the
enchanted lot knows it not.
Hypnotized,
as if they were
Lost in a
deep trance,
Listened to
the soulful music
Peacefully;
by the time that passed.
He stopped
at the end,
Woke up from
his seat
Bowed his
head
But no claps
heard.
The unknown
magic
Had killed
them all.
--Ruchi Mishra
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