I spot my reflection in the silhouette of your eyes.
Like a mirror, you are me and I am you.
In this lonely hour, and in this hollow room,
my eardrums fill with piano notes and rhymes,
as everything around me suddenly goes quite and silence blooms.
I come to realize our love is nothing but
meaningful lyrics hung upon abandoned piano keys,
and unuttered syllables written
amongst a music sheet.
Yet, the symphony plays perpetually,
loud and clear, demanding to be heard, to be felt.
It lifts me up, swirling me in your galaxy,
and every so often, I approach to tear off the mask you've been hiding behind,
till there's nothing left but musical debris.
I strip you of salvation.
I unleash your wholeness.
Rondes and blanches and noires
punctuate and embellish your figure.
They are a halo.
They are mine.
Jun 27, 2014
Jun 27, 2014 at 3:56 PM UTC
I spot my reflection in the silhouette of your eyes.
Like a mirror, you are me and I am you.
In this lonely hour, and in this hollow room,
my eardrums fill with piano notes and rhymes,
as everything around me suddenly goes quite and silence blooms.
I come to realize our love is nothing but
meaningful lyrics hung upon abandoned piano keys,
and unuttered syllables written
amongst a music sheet.
Yet, the symphony plays perpetually,
loud and clear, demanding to be heard, to be felt.
It lifts me up, swirling me in your galaxy,
and every so often, I approach to tear off the mask you've been hiding behind,
till there's nothing left but musical debris.
I strip you of salvation.
I unleash your wholeness.
Rondes and blanches and noires
punctuate and embellish your figure.
They are a halo.
They are mine.
