Love is a battlefieldIts funny how a song, or just an instrumental theme can evoke images, feelings, and tell a tale, even if that tale exists only within the confines of your mind and no one else will ever hear the same story in the same notes.
It starts off with a gentle plucking of a guitar string, perhaps a broken instrument by the sounds of it. It hasn't been played for quite some time, or maybe the musician is long out of practice. His fingers tease the strings as they sing muted notes in reply, shy of being overheard by an unwelcome stranger. There is a certain melancholy to the tune as the chords whine in the stillness of a cold morning. He's a fugitive in his own land, his own country, under the banner of which he once fought and bled.
The covers stir behind him as a veiled form of a young woman stretches in the pale dawning light. Her untamed hair swirls in messy waves over the sheets while her voice and breath summon memories of a night which should have been forgotten.
The strings pick up now,