The Lonely Soul

He was lonely,

But he never felt alone, 

He had an audacious personae, 

A brazen demeanor,

He cared for no-one but for his own.

Devoid of cogent civilized synergy, 

He found solace in his solitude.

But sometimes he too longed for someone, 

Someone's a dissonant presence, 

Someone to warm his algid heart, 

Sometimes he would sketch a silhouette, 

Sometimes he would hum a faint tune, 

Imagining it in her voice. 

Then speak of the devil, one day she entered his life

Her presence mollified his ardor, 

He felt something else for the first time in his life, 

Were those butterflies in his stomach? 

Maybe she was the one he was looking for,

May be she was the prosaic manifestations 

Of his deep concealed desires, 

She helped him bring out his facets unseen, 

She made the world look different to him, 

She saw through him clearly, 

As if she was peeking at his soul, 

But as lady luck would have her way, 

It didn't last last long, 

She didn't mean to stay for long, 

She went away to find another desolate soul, 

Maybe she was an angel in disguise from up above? 

He was once again left alone

But as they say

"Every cloud has a silver lining"

She had changed him for good.

She left him a writer, 

Maybe he wasn't that good, 

But what he inked resonated with others, 

And they took away his loneliness.

He started playing music, 

May be he is not good at it either, 

But at least he can hum that faint tune