My Lady

When she kisses my neck,

My blood pounds in my veins,

My senses awake,

Yet my mind relaxes.

She has a power over me,

She has a grasp over my life.

I submit to her perfection,

Nothing can replace her majesty.

Yet she is meek as a servant,

When she sleeps all by herself,

Awaiting my fingers,

To run along her locks.

Her sweet silence is my slumber,

Her every utterance is my breath,

When my soul meets her heart,

I hear the symphony of my life.

A beauty so profound,

Her curves so perfect,

O queen of my heart,

Salvation of my soul.

Thou art the lady,

who makes my world whole.

The night was dark and silent and i sat alone in the upstairs room of my house. the lights were switched off and my face was glowing in the blue haze emitted by the laptop screen in front of me.

The laptop was connected to the internet, I was virtually connected to the entire world. I could watch every video I ever wanted to watch or I could chat online with the never ending flow of friends who make themselves available at such late hours since they are free at no other time of the glorious day.

But there I dint want to do any of that. something was missing in my heart, something was not in place, something was bothering me. I closed my eyes and i could visualize the perfect curves carved out of wood of my violin, i could feel the warmth of the wood on my body. I realized what was missing in my life at that moment. As I sat in this room after having celebrated Christmas just the previous day, I thought about my violins, back in the desolated hostel room, miles away from me.

'A beauty so profound

Her curves so perfect.'

As i did not have any pen or pencil at my disposal at that moment, i marked those verses in my mind and switched off my laptop.

Few weeks later, as I sat in my Literature class, and sleep began creeping into my (innocent) eyes, i decided to complete 'My Lady' on the back of my notebook under the pretext that I was 'actually' taking down notes on the subject. .