Life is a symphony
Intertwining deep inside,
Like music soaring out of the lungs
Emptying the vessel to raw nothingness.
Vibrations in the larynx
Which fill the room with a beautiful melody.
Singing without any care,
That it satisfies the soul.
An angel in the making,
Holding a pretty harp
In a world that was simply divine.
Using her voice as a source of being presence,
A light to the path.
The crochets falling gracefully in their place
And this is why you hear only the melody, and nothing else.
we are all stories in the making- 