My shaking hand came to my mouth. I forgot to breathe, the power of the piece like a weight in my chest. Because it spoke of sorrow and loss. It spoke of anger and regret. It spoke of love. I recognized every feeling, because I had felt them too. Was feeling them now. Cromwell’s hands danced over the keys, perfectly, gracefully, and with such beauty that I was sure that if my heart gave out at that moment, it would be at peace after hearing this. Music so heavenly it almost didn’t feel real.
