The One And Only Instrument For The Dead

There he stood with his violin, his eyes a bright blue that darkened within.
He stood on the corner of Main Street, standing alone, tapping his feet.
He raised his bow as he tilted his head, resting his chin on the bed.
The soft cushion upon the oak, the wind softly blowing his cloak.
He ran the bow across the strings, for a split second, his ears would ring.
Suddenly, it brought to life, the music filling the dark of night.
Slowly, slowly, a crowd grew, and stayed without a whispering few.
They watched and listened as he swayed, gazing in awe as their minds gave way.
They imagined their own fantasy, a place to match the musical scene.
He scraped the bow across the strings, so hard that is would sting.
Sparks flew up as it screeched, each string snapping to the rough greet.
The man released the bow from the flames that fell down, then took a bow for his amazed crowd.
They threw all their change into his case, cheering as their hearts raced.
They patted him on the back, as they slowly scattered just like a wolf pack.
Once he was alone, the man stored away his talent, smiling as the strings grew back quite valiant.
He closed the case, and atop it, it read: "The One And Only Instrument For The Dead."
He grabbed the handle as his back arched, flames spiraling around his arms.
Two white wings sprouted from his shoulder blades, beating them as the fire gave way.
A lone boy passed on the street, hearing his strong wings beat.
He gazed upon the tall, lean man, straight and proud, the male would stand.
The boy gasped as the man walked near, a soft smile would appear.
He knelt down in front of his face, setting down the velvet case.
He grinned as he opened it wide, taking out the bow that hid inside.
On it the young man saw the carvings, fire raging, hounds starving.
Demons and angels fighting to the death, fire and ice coming from their breath.
The boy stepped back at the sigh, his eyes rimmed with some fright.
The angel put his hand on his shoulder, his other upon his chin.
His touch was softer than no other, warmth, his hands held within.
He smiled at the young boy, and moved his hand to the bow.
Noticing the youth wasn't coy, there was something he wanted him to know.
The angel tapped the bow to his chest, right upon the left.
Then moving it to the child's, tapping his soft and mild.
A blue aura formed from their hearts, and they shared this art.
The holy demon could now see, what this boy was meant to be.
He revealed the instrument and gave it to the son, telling him to play a note; "Only one."
The boy had never even seen this before, but he gave it a try.
He let the bow slide along with galore, the strings letting out a cry.
Then fate changed once the notes began to flow, as soft and gentle as fresh snow.
The child gazed at his hands, wondering what he could command.
He tried to quicken up the pace, but the angel took his place.
He gently pulled the magical wonder away, and gave the boy a caring gaze.
He set the violin back in its tomb, and stood as the boy gazed up without gloom.
His heart raced with the love for the tune, and knew he'd play once again soon.
The angel took the child's hand, and stepped into an alley.
He lead the boy without command, and stopped after step twenty.
They stood in silence, before the man asked; "Dear boy, do you agree?"
The youth was quite confused  as he tilted his head, and the demon smiled and said;
"Do you wish to come with me, on this long journey?
To become a walking one of the dead, to never see your mom and dad?"
The boy hesitated, but agreed, and together they would flee.
Screaming, yet cool flames, danced as if a dream.
They spiraled around the two, bringing them away.
Off to a secret tomb, further than the edge of space.
Off to a different time, one far from our own.
One where dreams come alive, and you never stand alone.
They disappeared into the night, not leaving behind a trace.
Together, with music, they would fight, defeating any deathly case.
The angel claimed him as his son, and together they would stand.
Sharing the same soul and blood, as close as hand-in-hand.
They ventured to Heaven, Hell and back, leaving without a scar.
Never leaving a single track, yet traveling so far.
They defeated every foe with the notes of a million trapped, lost souls.
Knowing that together they would have full control.
One night the boy smiled, looked at his father and said;
"One day, dad, will I be the owner of The One And Only Instrument For The Dead?"