Song of My Soul

In an unceasing whisper streams the unbound sea,
With an ancient song, that echoes in my deeps,
A song that flies with a resounding melody,
To fill the earth from ground to the sky.
Timeless in this breeze, it spills its hidden lyrics,
From a fount that cascades in a sanctum within.
In this still air of tonight,
My soul is awakened by the melody,
as the beams break in the dense, dark deeps.
The secret of a living music, the weaving of a poem,
That lives in every moment, by the surging sea,
Pulls me beneath the light of heaven.
Down comes the moment when the flames that flickered,
Now burn the brightest to echo the answer of an unanswered call.
Here I find the spilling notes, balancing with ferocity yet a delicacy.
For in it is the flame ablaze, to awaken an age- old spirit.

The world I behold with my bare eyes,
Carries a beauty so decadent and old,
Where do I smell any eternal green?
For in the eyes of a sojourner,
It does flit as a momentary beauty,
not meant to rest as an evergreen eternality.
As, at times, there seems to dwell a passing beauty,
A beauty on escape from shade to shade, as colors fly,
Such is the melody, that echoes in the breeze.
‘What comes must go', a poetry my lips recite,
Through the beauties that flit from moment to moment,
Yet curls in the heaps, streaming from my deeps.

The wakeful eyes, moistened in such verity,
Bursts into the saddened delight,
yet a question hangs in my mind,
What melody does live to outlive this flight? '
The aching truth drips the sweets from such a transience,
To wrench the shards and mold them in a melody.
The moments as keepsakes, the memories as souvenirs,
To fill the void in a pitch-dark pit.
My life which seemed so void of beauty,
My mind that wandered in the quest for tunes,
Oh! so lost were they in the ephemeral shades,
Now I tie and bind them all,
in the woven knot of a fallen beauty.
In the unsung song of my weeping soul,
Forever flowing, is its unceasing tune.
What was drowned in sorrow n delight,
Now rolls mellifluously on the meadows,
And ecstasy bounces in my deeps.
Tremulous am I in joy it seems,
As the stonewalls hold the last notes cry,
And from the lowlands rises a story so rich,
To spell the notes with a familiar ring.

In the sea of my soul, swells the waves,
That now spell the blighted beauty.
My dues I pay, mining the deeps,
for power from powerlessness.
What lay in whisper in silence for long,
Now the breeze carries those mushy memories,
And in silent murmurs the leaves hold,
The song I trill in my sanctum within.
In the torrents of all the distant bygones,
Runs smooth, my streaming melody.
From lowlands to midlands,
I chart the landscape of terrains in sight,
My deeps that quivered once with rage,
Now trills on earth with a fluttering melody.

The voice of footfalls unwiped and remained,
I now bind in notes that fly, high amidst the blues of sky.
The soft thud, those seasons that made,
Now stride with glory on earth with pride.
The sigh that escaped once my soul,
Now find a home on my trilling lips.
A tap at the door that once was sealed,
Now unlocks the gates of meadows.
From the vales I rise, in drought and dry,
Now I climb the mount with glory.

From despair, I rise to possibilities overhead,
From a midnight dungeon to midnight madness,
As there I find the song of my soul.