Poem: An Otherworldly Passion (v3 of One)

This is version three of my poem One. Only a few phrases were changed from editing.
You can find version two here.
You can find version one here.

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It sparkled from the dim glow of the school's half burnt light bulbs,
strung with care from a virtuous crafter.
Creation and child met, struck with similarities:
Hollowed
Dull
Lifeless.
My glimpse of it spun my whole world into perfect tranquility.

Its glimpse of me reflected my emotions
behind the veil of carefully tended wood and polish.

It was a moment of emotional and spiritual completion,
despite my young age.
A bricked up wall inside of my subconscious had been broken,
blown up with the dynamite of this mysterious, yet calm instrument.
I knew it's brethren were also staring towards me,
but it was not them that I wanted to play.

I strolled over,
and tempted myself with a touch.
The simple touch turned into a graceful feel,
my fingers gliding over the cool metallic strings.
Like a blind child, I memorized each string carefully,
pausing slightly at the thinly-crafted E string.

A mutual consensus was known between us,
and it vigilantly hopped on top of my shoulder.
After careful examination, I carefully grasped the bow,
and began playing Screeching Tones in E Minor.

It was a disaster marked only in movies.
Both of us feeling uncomfortable,
a mistake that could not be made again.
It's body motioned me towards the door.

My dream stayed adamant though,
as my soul examined the stunning bands of bliss spread across it's body.
I snatched the bow a second time,
and began playing an unwritten melodic tune:
Completion in D Major.