You are Rosin to my strings
Though sombre and eerie like a muddy river
Too rigid for my liking and quite helplessly broken
You reflect the light that shines on your dark skin
Like a punitive truth on naked sin
You ease the brakes on my candid
As I exhaust the spring of my tender words
The splendid honeysuckle of my youthful songs
This flare and glory
Verily ,it would all be in vain
Mere scribbles on a smudgy pane
Hastily fading in the haze
No echoes, no music
No vibrations
Without the comfort of having you
In the smallest pocket of my case.
-Rain
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