Strumming the guitar, she hit the perfect note and rhythm as she sang the song of love and desire.
Her soothing voice draws me to her as my heart feels the tragedy, sadness and mystery.
Yet! It’s love.
Her voice sprang to life my heart which warms up to the beauty of love.
Who is she?
I hear the echo of her voice every night that draws me to her.
The more I approach her, the more she eludes me further.
Is her voice an anti dote to my pain and anguish?
I am compelled to submit myself to the mystery called love.
I hear the voice as I approach the mountains and the Arabian sea that surrounds the big city where human swarms every night.
I hear the voice melting but can’t see her.
I hear steps traipsing on the sand dunes but fail to see the image of love.
Is she a mystery?
Am I trapped in the oxymoron called love.
I am on the trail of the mysterious voice as I follow her shadow.
Will I find her?
Yet, I call her the voice of love.