I watched the night,
At her beauty, I gazed.
Through a window, through a frame,
The frame the building had restricted me to,
I watched the city.
The city twinkled, crushed under the heavy unlit sky,
With distant cars and streetlights:
A thousand photographers trying as if,
Trying to have the perfect shot,
But each time, failing.
I stared at the stars that breathe no more
Listened to the song of the night:
The dogs howled the melody all night long
As the cars’ cries gave it a rhythm,
But something was missing,
The Harmony, that voice so sweet.
I listened for days to that Incomplete Song
Till I could no longer, but
Then one night, she started to sing.
Her voice, like a sweet burning arrow,
Into my chest it pierced
Till it touched my heart.
It was over, my wait, it was over.
I know not who she was,
Where she was,
But I had been waiting,
Waiting for her, for eternity.
That voice, that sweet lullaby in the distance
She sang, sang in utter loneliness,
Unaware that I exist;
Still, somehow she was singing just for me;
I sat in the chair with the guitar, broken,
Some strings intact still,
Lit up a cigarette and joined in.
We never knew each other’s faces,
I never got to know her name,
But we sang to our fullest
With cigarettes and broken strings.
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