Just an octave
Lower than my pain,
Just a decibel
Over my joy,
She sings
My dreams,
Burnt songs
And broken records
Never played,
She reverberates
My heart
Upon her lips
One strum
Past laughter
One twang
Before tears,
On her vocal chords
I ride
The memory lane
Her voice
The wind
Past my ears,
Making my years
Feel long and short
As if all has been
A futile trip,
But I know
What she
Utters sweetly
In her chorus
Is but a reprise
Of my life,
And unlike
The fading of her song
I'm not over
Yet...
APAD13 - 060 © okpoet