A Piano to Anna

Okay, so this isn’t a gundam story in the slightest, but I felt inspired to write it after listening to this song from Gundam Unicorn soundtrack, (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lk069rdvWNA) and I’d really like your opinion on it.

A Piano to Anna
By Jon Pultz

There once was a man whom had been in love with a woman named Anna. She was everything in this man’s life, and he cared about her more than anything in the world. They had lived happily together for quite some time. However, Anna had fallen ill, and there was little anyone could do for her. The doctors tried to heal, and the priests tried to pray, but it was to no avail. Anna passed away, and with her passing, the man fell to sorrow, and lost his faith in humanity. He began to avoid his friends and family, and would not answer if they called. Eventually, he became nothing more than the shell of a man he once was. 
One night, the man was asleep in his bed, when suddenly he was awoken by a strange feeling. He began to move, slowly at first, but then arose from his bed quickly, as if guided by something beyond himself. He tried to stop his movements, but he could not, and soon he found himself leaving his home. It was dark outside, and tranquility was in the air. The man continued his unexplainable journey through town, until he came to an old theater. The man had never been to this place before, nor had he ever seen it, but it beckoned for him to come inside. He found the door was unlocked, and following the compelling nature of the building, entered. 
There was no one inside, and the only light in the room illuminated a grand piano on stage. Something was urging him to go to it, and he heeded his feelings. Stepping onto the stage, the man headed over to the piano. It was a beautiful instrument, although a thin layer of dust covered it. He ran his hand across it, feeling the polished wood beneath his hand. In the dust was the trail from his hand. He looked around the room again, but there was no one. “Why?” Thought the man. “Why would I be drawn to this? I don’t even know how to play such an instrument.” But then he felt another force telling him to sit at the piano, and once again he obliged. 
The man sat down, and as he did, he struck a key. The note rang just for a second before fading into silence, but it was a beautiful sound, and the man wanted to hear more, and so he struck another key, this time holding the note. He took in the tone of it, and he did not know how, but it had brought a small sense of comfort in his heart. He struck another key, and another, and then fell into a sort of trance, encompassed by the music that flowed from his fingers. He had begun to play a song so beautiful and so pure, that anyone who would hear it could not describe it in words. He played on and on, but he was so captured by his music, that he did not notice the seats in the theater had begun to fill. But it was not with people, but rather spirits of an age long past. They sat and listened as the man wove a tale into the music, portraying all of his sadness. The ghosts watched as the man poured out his very soul into the song. 
When the man was finished, he paused in silence, amazed at the song he had created. He then turned to face the empty chairs, but this time he noticed they were occupied by the ghosts. He was taken aback at first, but then one approached him, and told the man how beautiful his song was, and how they would very much like to hear it again. “I don’t think I could play that again.” The man said to the ghost. “Oh but you can!” They exclaimed. “Come again tomorrow night, and you will be able to play again.” They said, and one by one faded into the shadows.
The man returned home, and let himself fall away to slumber. The next morning, he believed that what he had experienced the night before was nothing more than a dream, and a figment of his sorrow. But he had to be sure, so he grabbed his coat and took off down the street. Low and behold, there was the theater, but when he tried to enter, the door was locked. Returning to his home, the man thought that he must’ve been sleepwalking. 
That night though, the man awoke again, and found himself outside the theater door. This time though, he went in on his own will, and once again, saw that the theater was empty. He looked around before taking his seat at the piano, and seeing no one, began to play. The music flowed even more naturally then the night before, and once again, the Ghosts filled the stands, sitting in silence as the man played his song. Finishing his piece, he turned to see that again, the ghosts were there. “Tell me spirits, is this a dream?” He asked. “No,” they replied. “We are drawn to your song. We hear your sadness and your loss, and we understand your pain, but only when you play your music. Your song brings us peace.” “Tell me,” the man asked, “Do you know my love, Anna? She passed away some time ago, and I would very much like to see her again.” “Sadly, we do not.” The spirits said, and the man’s hope of seeing his love again sank. “But we hear your song, your song for her love, and if you promise to play your song for us every night, we promise to look for the spirit of your love.” They said, and when the man agreed to this contract, they faded into the shadows once more. 
So every night, the man would go to the theater and play his song. And every night he would ask the spirits of Anna, but every night they gave the same answer. Several months had passed, and the man had grown weary of performing, with no answers from the ghosts. “Perhaps you can play for more than just us spirits.” They said. “There are many corners of the world, and maybe she cannot yet hear your song.” But the man dismissed their suggestions. “Men do not understand my sorrow. They prayed to their gods and used their false medicine, but that could not save my Anna. How could they possibly convey the sadness of my song?” The man explained. “You must have more faith in mankind.” They said, returning to their shadows once again. The next night, a storm had come in, and the rain came down in torrents, but the man made good on his promise, and once again played his song at the theater. But this night, unbeknownst to the man, there was someone other than the spirits keeping him company. When he finished his song, he looked for the spirits, but they were not there. In their place was a man who sat amazed and transfixed by that which he had witnessed. The man grew angry at the trespasser, and left the theater before the other could say a word. He walked out into the downpour, and had become so soaked you could not tell he was in tears. He ran as fast as he could to a cliff on the edge of town. “Anna! My song to you has been tainted by man’s ears! I will never see you again!” He shouted into the night. “Sir!” The other man had caught up to him by this point. “Please! Step away from the ledge!” He shouted. “You have ruined my song! How could you possibly understand my pain?!” “Please good sir, I do know your pain. I lost my daughter to sickness, she had only been four years of age. I loved her very much, but she did not know the extent of my love. Nor will she ever.” The spectator shouted. The man hung his head for a moment, before stepping down from the ledge. He walked with the spectator back to the theater, where inside, the ghosts awaited them. “You said that no one could understand you pain, and yet this man does.” They said to the man. The spectator piped in. “These spirits brought me here to witness your song. If others heard it, perhaps the spirit of your Anna will hear it and return to see you.” The spectator said, a hint of comfort in his voice. The man sat there contemplating. “Maybe my hatred of mankind has been unwarranted…” He said softly. “Please, play your song for the world, both mortal and immortal, so that we may all understand.” The spectator pleaded. 
After that night, the man began to play his song across the world. The spirits had stayed by his side everywhere he performed. No matter where it was, he played his song in the hopes that Anna would soon come to visit him, but as the years went on, and the man grew old, he began to lose hope of ever seeing his love again. After he could no longer travel, he returned to his home town, and one last time, he went into the theater. He looked at that old piano. It hadn’t changed in all those years. He sat down, his wrinkled fingers spread across the keys, and one last time, played his piece. The spirits gathered round him and listed, taking in every note and every tone, for they knew this was the last time they would hear his song. As he struck the final chord, he turned to the spirits, and thanked them for all they had done for him, then without another word, he left the theater. When he returned home, he sat on his bed and cried. He knew his time was near, and he could not understand why Anna never came to his side. As he wept, a small light came into the room. He looked up, and what he saw brought him to his knees. It was the spirit of Anna, come before him after all these years. “A-A-Anna…it’s really you!” He exclaimed. “Yes, my love.” She replied. “But Anna, I played my song for you all these years, but you never came to my side. The other spirits searched for you, but you were nowhere to be found!” He exclaimed. “Don’t you see darling,” she said “I never left you. I was always with you, I was the song. I heard it every night; I was there with you every performance. I brought you to the theater. I never left you. The song was our way to let each other know we still loved one another.” She said, smiling. “Oh Anna…” The man said, completely in tears. “Come, my love, let us join the others.” She said. As he took her hand, he felt his sadness wash away into nothing, and he knew that he would never be alone again.

(genuinely wipes a tear from eye)…i bow sir to your poetic prowess sir. well done!

Sir this is truly an amazing job that you have done! I can hear the melody as I read what you have written and all I can say is wow! o.ob