Unconducted

We all must go, no matter our importance to the world, or someone. There is no set schedule, or fairness of longevity. So when the time comes, and it shall, just know. When the heart sings the songs of sorrow, the tune is unrehearsed. For the tears of pain are intertwined with those of joy. Linking the chords of past and present sounds, inscribed on the souls tablature. Allowing the strings of emotion to be randomly plucked, by the familiar fingers that play life's symphony.