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