Gautham Ramakrishnan

I wish I knew a chord,

Just one is enough for now,

So that I can strike it against

Whatever instrument that may come alive,

At the touch of these broken fingers,

And that I could lay down with the words

Those tremors of the soul

I wish to turn into a song,

For how I wish I knew the secret language of violins,

That set fire to the rolling tears

As I dream with eyes open

And the quiet world makes me