Spent symphony, of my, silent strings
Lay strewn, o’er, sin, of my skin
Smoldering, in whose, stinging yearnings
I await him, in his, love’s coffin
May the, orgy of, passions begin!

Not a muse, yours, I, my nemesis
But a, sweeter wood, than your violin
Miss longs, for caress, more than, a kiss
To redeem, that music, lost within!

Neither Beethoven, nor, knew Mozart
That 8th note, of, deep dark mystique
Heretic spree, of a, woman’s heart
That flirts, with pain’s, insolent streak!

Before moon, melts, in its, mystic mist
May my, dreams of dissonance, find respite
My alchemist, fulfill my, heart’s heist
Play Me, Like Your, Violin Tonight!

© 2022 Vikas Chandra