In the melancholic times,
words get lost like bemused,
chasing illusory altitudes…
whereas a song keeps on playing …
in the background!
piercing notes go deep within,
harping the strings severely,
leaving a shrill feeling …
in the core of the soul’s being!
The frictional touch bleeds the veins,
even though the sound resonates,
A song of nostalgic pains,
echoes in the subjugating place…
Leaving behind the soul in somberness,
The heart moves with driftness…
brushing past from the touching tunes,
On a casual formal pathway!