Mere pleasure is a child’s game,
With thundering eyes and playful shame.
With a lullaby never sung more beautifully
And a mind encapsulated with deep harmony.
Rendering thoughts may cross your mind;
You might play a rhythm of your own kind.
But never too late is that muse to rise;
Never is our soul short of its tries.
Kindle that flower, that colour beautified;
Let your body feel the elixir streaming wide.
That bubble of thoughts you seek to indulge in;
Let it bind you, let it create that magic within.
Weave the strings your sober heart wants to hear,
Perfected emotions threading each memory you bear.
Open the window to a brighter sunshine,
Let that light ignite every soul you call “mine”.