The voice from heart,notes fashioned for hunting ears
Has these days, for soothing, shrink to nought the
preasures of pains.
Non could share your adoption -mood curative.
Even the countless efforts,the arrayed of lines
That summons bones to strength, yea,in keenness for more.
Multitudes -others- of sounds,rather seems strange to the mind
Perhaps more adherence,my hearing still suffer silence.
In no shadow of realities, I testify, nor in pretence
To the rooted out of depth -inspiration- for warmth, do I
say essence of life?
And souls do, in haste, to obtain a balm to their being.
The sweetness of your voice is the wine of gladness
Preciousness, treasured than nightingale's.
Queen [king] of music, rebirth of sound strength,
All fruits of tears submerge into never again
And never has been as such, than this of....