, , , , , , , , , ,

A gentle breeze that embraced me
Took my thoughts to my good old violin
It was my good old friend
My greatest asset once
When I was in deep sorrow
Those strings were my comfort
When I was on heights of happiness
I shared it with my violin
A day without its melody
Seemed to be gloomy
A word without my violin
Seemed to be empty
Days passed….
New faces filled my life
I started ignoring my sweet violin
Pretended not to notice its presence
Slowly a space started growing
In between our inseparable relation
But it was quite late
When I recognized
The truth of life
Which was so bitter to taste
Days passed…
New faces started fading
And again I was alone
With my broken pieces of heart
With sorrows as my companion
I searched for my violin
My sweet old friend
But couldn’t find my violin
And at last in the attic of my home
I saw my violin lie
With dust smothering over
I tried dusting up my violin
To make it sing again
But with tears I saw
The Broken Strings of My Violin