Sing to me
The lines you once scribbled on the walls,
After the day we measured each other's veins...
The blue tracks on our wrists and ankles.
Sing to me
The verse you had whispered in December,
Just before the year left us behind...
And finger nails turning blue with erotics.
Sing to me.
Just this once.
Sing to me...
And I shall be redeemed
Of the crimson feathers,
The ill-fitting wish fulfillment,
And the urge to self destruct!
Sing to me
And make me your music.
***
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4 comments:
Esp liked "Sing to me
The lines you once scribbled on the walls,
After the day we measured each other's veins...
The blue tracks on our wrists and ankles.
Sing to me
The verse you had whispered in December,
Just before the year left us behind..."
Nice. Very. More so, the first line itself.
Thanks, Purvi :-)
Glad you liked it!
You could do well as a lyricist for "scorpions", you know. :)
I can literally hear the deep guitar strings strumming to these lines.
:-)
Thanks. I tried writing songs for my school band. Haha! It was a very very strange experience.
And once more time, for a friend's band. Again... strange experience.
But I am glad that you think that I will do good as a song writer. Thanks a lot :-)
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