The strings of old guitar
pale & feeble page from the past
dusting off the layer of time, it lay
under the cover of dreamy cast
resonating vibrations of strumming string
recollecting forgotten melodies to set it start
slowly slowly the rhythm picks up
voicing the ones left in draft
touch of strings sets the pulse high
gravity falls apart
music serves the soul
wishful light ruptures from the mournful dark
Magic fills the room
time has travelled far
separation couldn't seperate us
me and my old guitar.
x
Manisha
Sep 23, 2015
Sep 23, 2015 at 9:20 PM UTC
The strings of old guitar
pale & feeble page from the past
dusting off the layer of time, it lay
under the cover of dreamy cast
resonating vibrations of strumming string
recollecting forgotten melodies to set it start
slowly slowly the rhythm picks up
voicing the ones left in draft
touch of strings sets the pulse high
gravity falls apart
music serves the soul
wishful light ruptures from the mournful dark
Magic fills the room
time has travelled far
separation couldn't seperate us
me and my old guitar.
x
Manisha
