Music Kills The Vein
As the wind blows
Vibrating in an invisible mind
With bowstrings in iambic cymbals
Echoing in low loud voice
Repeating the flow with the rhythmic lines
In chromatic scale.
When the mutes march the cymbal
The silent song breeds awigiri
To kill my vein with his soprano
Music is my breakfast
That charm me with love
Only thy foes know no joy
Sound is of colours
It's like chameleon in bunch
Giving melody to his fans
Echoed history is hard to fade
We saw the nakedness of yesterday
From song
And hear the news
That kills my vein today
Emmanuel Goto
(C) All Rights Reserved. Poem Submitted on 06/04/2020
The copyright of the poems published here are belong to their poets.
Internetpoem.com is a non-profit poetry portal. All information in here has been published only for educational and informational purposes.