Like a connoisseur to souls' food,
I could sense the sounds' source.
Like a shapeless invisible string;
Pulling, towards the wood that chores.
Orchestrates along; the sea, the breeze,
the chorister within; inrush I groove,
& soul sings along with melody,
& tiniest things that barely move.
A harp, a violin, a piano, a xylen,
a string, a wind, a percussion, a chord,
a virtuoso, an amateur, or just broken heart.
What silenced nature, whatever it be.
Those notes hovered; like a phantoms' grasp,
I gasp & groove, I followed; it leads me,
like an altered soul, like my purpose beholds,
like a slave to music, lyk i was born to be.
It broke my aura into pixels of light,
it broke my aura into melody delight,
it broke my aura into nocturne of night,
it broke my aura into shiny sunlight.
I flowed like an essence,
I flowed like a joy,
I flowed like a ray of hope,
I formed-deformed like a symphony.