You
came into my room,
You
stayed for a while.
You
played a song,
Then
another,
Followed
by a few more.
Words
they strung
That
in my heart had hung
For
years and years-
Collecting
dust.
I
don’t know you.
But
you hold me...
Stronger
than ever
With
those tunes and words.
They
soothe me,
They
caress me,
And
inspire me
To
leap up
To write and play and sing.
The
urge and the upsurge,
The
drive and the pangs,
The
throbbing fingers,
The
shiny strings,
The
swollen eyes,
The
smoky room…
Thoughts
taking shape
Around
the corner of a drape
And
songs peeping through…
The
reborn at work again-
Dying…And
dying anew
To
let it all out,
To
tie it all up-
All
at the same time.
Thanks
for the songs
Thanks
for the words.
You
have left my room.
But
never…Never again…
Aritra
Chakrabarti
2.45AM,
18.02.2014
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