by himanshu modi
Thursday, October 21, 2010
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Bruised, battered, from battles that never cede.
A lone warrior in his alcove with verve deplete.
I embrace him in my arms, my melody surrounds;
Unravels in my bosom humming heavenly sounds.
A rambunctious youth; An Alexandrian conquest.
An unstoppable march, victorious, shall he rest.
My beat ups his tempo, propels him ahead.
A symphony for success that crowns his head.
Aged in body; with youth replete.
My tune of the yore keeps him upbeat.
Relives his days with the songs of the past.
Yesterdays roll ‘fore his eyes shut fast.
Enemies engaged in a brutal battue.
I palliate ill wills that 'tween them accrue.
Bridging divides with harmonious ties,
From percussion and strings oneness arise.
Anger and happiness, Love and hatred,
Some emotions I heighten, some end up abated.
A therapist, a companion, to heal your heart.
No boundaries to hinder what I impart.
I am all around. I am everywhere.
Sounds of the nature conveyed by the air.
Or from tubes or membranes, or metal, or strings,
A mellifluous melody incessantly sings.
Am a genie you can, evoke any time.
At your disposal my rhythm and rhyme.
Submit to me, concede your concerns.
With the balm of my ballad heal your burns.
Will make every trouble little easy to bear.
Shed tears with you; or maybe hum a prayer.
I live with you in your every breath.
A part of your life from birth until death.