Resonance

The enchantress with locks of temptation,

Sinewy fingers create sweet vibrations.

The captain walks bare-feet in disgrace,

A holy crime, her innocence, he braced.

A pair of worn out, tired feet,

Soul-less, they rest like ink on my sheet.

The taste, just like you, slightly oversweet.

Names we forget; ignore sinewy fingers & tired feet.

That which was, is here again,

'Follow me', she tells the saints.

A question, unanswered, unasked.

Fear of failure didn't need to be masked.

The pattern, we never saw, he said,

Synchronized chaos, we pledged.

A sound, then another and the next,

Perfectly timed, hand in hand at best.

My half hearted pictures she painted,

Complete in its emptiness, my poor head.

It stops beating, for just one instance,

Life, escaping away, bit by bit from my nostrils.

The first sights & sounds, the first impression,

Beyond comprehension, in an eclipse, the sun.

A sweet scented flame, she feeds

To a second surrender, the ashes lead.

Through eyes closed, we perceive,

With senses numbed, we feel.