The moon changes its face every black night
Seasons shift, whispering some old wise words;
I spot the changes in me without fight
Let go people and things just like free birds.
Music is the only thing I hold on
Like a forlorn person who owns nothing
A melody for each night and season
Lost memories rekindle as I sing.
Being a slave to the music gives me hope
I feel alive despite losing a lot;
Like letters stacked inside an envelope
Music makes me feel secure about my thoughts.
I can feel all the people I have loved
In the rhythm of songs, I have savored.
© Purba Chakraborty
21.04.2018
Note: This is an English sonnet also known as Shakespearean sonnet. It is a poem consisting of 14 lines (3 quatrains and 1 couplet). Each line consists of 10 syllables. The rhyme pattern is abab cdcd efef gg.
