Music

the streets are the same as ever,
the voices are different
souls with no hidden agenda,
loiter around in the distance
the image of a song bursts into tune,
and after teasing and tempting awhile,
gets lost and leaves me alone.

the muse is sometimes an image,
it sometimes is a sound .
sometimes it's a feeling
of the music infinitely going around.
the notes change with emotions
of a vengance filled friend
but never stay constant enough
to be mine again

the desire to make sound
to touch the hearts of all
burns with a fevor so deep
or sometimes burns none at all
it would be mine forever i thought
it would never lead me astray
but alas i regret to ponder
my music has gone away

flown off in the distance
for a better song to sing
to brighten the life of another
like a courtesan bringing another drink. 
i wait and wait and wait some more
with the strings under my tips
but my music is on vacation
singing with all its wish.

to bring it back, or not at all
lies solely in the twist of fate
like the guitar dying slowly in my hands
or the verse dying slowly in my brain.

so with my last wish to the lamp
i wish the return of my song
grant the life to my journey
and to all i bring along.