years have mottled its skin
grey shrouds the tangerine
I scrape for the peregrine
obscure between the strings
jammed are the heads
bent is the proud neck
I crave for the prosaic
lost between the frets
tunes unveil eventually
as words crawl up the lips
I seek for the bliss
soaked in fond memories
chords swell to yesteryears
a million lovesick rendezvous
I resurrect dying verses
lost ballads of wild raptures
Asha Seth 