Music

Music,

Sometimes it flows like a liquid

Filling the crevices

That the weariness of the day created

To the cusp.

It takes the shape of all empty spaces within

Voids and vacuums of thoughts

And fills them all

With a rare glory.

Sometimes it is solid

And fits the inner surroundings

Like the last piece of jigsaw

Connecting with a click

Completing an incomplete tapestry.

Sometimes it rises

Like vapour

From the depths of the heart

Lending voice

To all that remained unsaid

All that remained unexpressed

And then travels

Like a wave

Connecting hearts

Through rhythmic heartbeats

That share a mutual melody

Until

Souls of songs and beings

Have perfectly

Synced.