Music of my melancholy
Rises and falls in its own symphony
Lost into my loneliness
Surrounded by void passions
Empty page, staring at nothingness
so much to say
that words can't comprehend
So many thoughts
Drowning in my own imagination.
Prorate balancing my universe
To make sense in its disturbance
Letting myself drift in perspectives
Passing over the broken bridge
Salvaging what is left.
Unknown strings making music
Without words my lines are empty
Ingenuity in its originality
Keep repeating same choir in repeat
There is something waiting for me
How does my thought drift
what could have been
How life is, and to become
Without you,
With a piece missing, a soul detached,
With every lasting pause and
Incomplete.
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