Fingers running across the strings, for a moment the darkness fades away as he plays.
A passion neverending the notes always ringing.
His eyes, normally dull are bright with hope.
He plays his guitar fearlessly and the crowd responds cheerfully, for he is what they came for.
The curtains close and the concert becomes a ghost.
No one knows where he had to go.
Without the music doubt clouds his mind.
He can only see the bad he left behind.
If only he could see why the crowd cheered for him.
He dismisses their cheers for anyone other than him.
He's blind to the good he has done because his eyes are dulled to what he has become.
A shadow of his former self.
Hopefully he will see the potential to regrow and rebirth himself.