I am going to forget your memories from my heart,
It's as if I'm going to erase my own existence.
This fiddle 🎻 I play so passionately as an art,
It's as if I'm going to shatter it down piece by piece.
I am going to forget your memories from my heart,
It's as if I'm going to erase my own existence.
May these clouds cry their shower along me,
For today, I'm going to weep like grown-up babies.
Fingers hurt, especially the ones in my left hand,
As they slide vigorously on the violin's neck.
Let me rub my regrets onto this rebec's neck,
Ah! The friction on the strings pierced my fingers.
This violin's strings become undone by my ferocity,
I'll sleep, knowing that I can't be loved by any.
My HP Poem #1993
©Atul Kaushal
