Letter to Dinorah, Ch I. Part I of the Pious Indulgence Series

Описание: .
🎹 Libretto 🎹
🎵 00:00 ⏩ 00:56 ➡️ Act/Verse One
🎵 00:56 ⏩ 01:42 ➡️ Refrain/Chorus One
🎵 01:42 ⏩ 02:49 ➡️ Act/Verse Two
🎵 02:49 ⏩ 03:35 ➡️ Refrain/Chorus Two
🎵 03:35 ⏩ 04:24 ➡️ Act/Verse Three
🎵 04:24 ⏩ 05:10 ➡️ Refrain/Chorus Three
🎵 05:10 ⏩ 06:11 ➡️ Act/Verse Four
🎵 06:11 ⏩ 06:57 ➡️ Refrain/Chorus Four
🎵 06:57 ⏩ 07:54 ➡️ Act/Verse Five
🎵 07:54 ⏩ 08:22 ➡️ Coda/Outro


Letter to Dinorah, Ch I. Part I of the Pious Indulgence Series
#originalpianocomposition #burkinafaso #thomassankara #BlaiseCompaoré #pentatonic

Author's Note: This music composition was originally written for my Big Sister as a sort of Birthday Present. The Story that makes up the Audio/Visual originated around 16 October 1987, when I saw a news report of a coup d'état in Burkina Faso, which resulted in the death of its president, Thomas Sankara. This is NOT a biographical account of my childhood...

Dear Dinorah,

I hope this letter finds you well. I know I've promised to write, but you know, life has this funny way of getting in the way of the things that really matter the most...

Send my love to the girls. Tell them their uncle loves them very much and misses' them so. I've heard Rosalia had a baby boy. Oh, wow. You're a grandma now!

Sandra & I don't speak. I don't see this rift healing anytime
soon. You know how it goes, Time has a way of making the heart grow cold. It's my fault. I don't have much room left, living with my ghosts. The wars ended 30 years ago, but in my dreams, the killing goes on.

I still remember that summer morning when they came. I tried
to hide under the sand. Silly boy I was, I thought I could outsmart the hand that took me away to war. The horrors I saw...the things I was made to do. Children killing children in the name of gold, of stones, of earth that bleeds red.

After a while I started to believe the lies. The farmer, the fisherman
they were the enemy. They needed to die so that the land would be
free. I was the tip of the spear. I close my eyes at night and see
them all. They judge me, accuse & curse me. A mountain of skulls and limbs...and eyes that pierce the night.

I was a child! I yell. I did not know! Yet they persist, bleeding eyes
and broken knees. Ghouls and Wraith who know no peace. There is a darkness within you, they say. You let it win out then, you will do so again. There was no innocence, no cherubic smile. You are an instrument of death!
So it is written & so shall be.

I have done good deeds, I have said good words...
I have harbored good thoughts... Not enough! They retort. Not enough. Do more!

To hell with you! I yell. To hell with your wilted souls!
What about me? I ask. What about
my pain? What about MY childhood? What about MY dreams?
What about MY tears? I bled, I cried...but I survived. I still have lead embedded in my skull, but I chose life!

Have I not suffered thus?
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