There is the sound of music somewhere
softly playing in the woods
or is it just a wind blowing through.
I've heard this music before
returned once more
a major chord
taking myself too seriously
I can barely see the mirror.
I've got to get going
But I have no where to go.

Self absorbtion rolls in on the violins
Surrounds me in
a jacket and a blanket
sleep invites me in
drowsiness fills my mind
but I've been sleeping far too long
and it is no longer quiet inside
as the drums and cymbals
richochet within me
and anxiety hums its edgy tune.

I can't unwind my mind
hyperactive but not motivated
unable to move
while the guitar solo
reaches high and drops down low.
Is that the oboe and does it know
a crawling wriggling
alien ball of
Medusela hair
has taken up residence right there.
In a distinct diva voice
she's singing my song.

While opposites play a single chord
a single note
When with you I want to be alone
when alone I want to be with you.

The drum beats so slowly
there is a weight on my chest
a blindfold over my eyes
my heart's in a freezer
my legs are paralyzed
the music is playing
the crescendo is coming
and I'm dancing again
to those Depression Blues...

Silence - O', Even the silence has got something to say
in words of winds blown off Northern array
At first, it makes heart free from all worries,
but the next moment -
Everything seems to be burnt out into broken-furries

The diamond's costless so all spirits,
but when it comes to poor-faith,
Even the "love" goes down into shattered pieces

Echoes On Nights - O' the echoes of such restless ashes
make some noise across the tight-lipped room
And, the silence has got much to bleed,
When the castles of night go disappeared by the doom

With time, as usual, beautiful morn knocks at the door
The heart gets trapped inside the loop,
Melodious beats of its phase go bounced up ov'r the floor
& scream, O' the life's nothiing, but an empty cup of cold-soup.

I
Always
Wondered
Why
People
Consider
Me
A
Mystery
But
Then
I
Rea­lized
That
I
Don't
Even
Understand
Myself*

B.S.