Violin of Souls:

Frustration has given way to emptiness. A strange figure in the mirror. Tired eyes without a soul. A mute, as if the mouth was sewn. Scrawny fingers just fitting into the freezer. Tendons stretched like arrows in a bow. A snarling monster getting lost in the echoing mire. Ice cold frostbitten fingers playing the violin of souls. A body on a funeral pyre. Red hot coals with flames of gold leaping higher. An eerie song is played by the monster upon the dark enshrouded headstones. This is how the tale was told. This is why our hearts are cold.