A shadow of symphony alights from nowhere
circling in the environs of harmony
where the faces are not grim anymore
and the byword is pure matrimony.
The melody descends on the unloved
transforming each one of its beings
in the halo of love simply derived
to plug in the unfilled corners of feelings.
An outline so clear
with the enthusiastic beat so joyous
in the corporate gleam of arrears
as then the tune of success is humungous.
O Yes, its a musical shade of masterpiece indeed
decorated in the lap of the poor
simply jingles all the way if the breed
opts to stay happy still, on the moor.
