Your Music.

Music,

Made by heart,

With lyrics,

So so cryptic.

Go ahead,

Judge. 

These songs, 

Are personal. 

They define,

And sideline,

Both together.

Go Ahead,

Presume.

                          

You won`t understand, 

And you need not. 

You won`t feel it, 

And you possibly cannot. 

Go ahead,

Prove. 

Confused, 

Yet expressive, 

The symphony,

Of thoughts. 

Go Ahead,

Imagine.

                         

                                        

The notes,

All in tune.

Yet none match, 

Another precisely. 

Go ahead, 

Atune. 

Mix and fix, 

Those memories,

Make everything a, 

Repository of songs.

No one understands, 

You do.

Go ahead,

Unveil. 

Let`s be lost, 

Feel no need to, 

Be found. 

It's peaceful.

Then again,

Go ahead, 

Precede.