Jul 4, 2012
The string is plucked, The tone, determined. I start to play the rhythm. It's been like this For three, drawn-out years; Going through everyday With a heart of delight, amidst being reserved. _ _ _ You move to your own tempo Of illusory sound. _ _ _ I play the rhythm, You appreciate with a smile With insignias of meaning Imposed through your hands. I take the role of the musician With you as the conductor; Every wave, a sign of satisfaction. Every gesture, a language spoken. _ _ _ You don't need to doubt, For you shall be heard. I shall hear you out. Just give me the signs And we shall continue To be in this harmony. _ _ _ For in the silence, In your muteness, We shall still create our music.