IF my life was a song

Note:-thanks Indyeah for “IF my life was a song”

If my life was a song,
Then in the verses between
In a candour coveted hand,
I would breathe alive-
An expression set to the breeze
A serenade from the versatile winds
And forever free,in the wild laps
Of the one infinity.

If my life was a song,
Than in the notes high and low,
Connected above and below,
I shall ring the senses
Of mankind and be a passe
To the future-yet remembered
As the sound which propelled
The venerated verses of a magician-
Her wishes in me carried
And complete in wholesome alacrity.

If my life was a song,
I then long,
To be spread as unseen
lengths,in the several
Sounds of a violin;
the breath of a maiden
The etude of an epiphany-
Symphony,an encore to the passion,
The penchant of divine creativity.

If my life was a song,
Somewhere,somewhere,
From I rose,
And maybe it was a lover in remorse,
Or a conundrum engraved to a suppose-
To enchant the gullible and parade
The rhetoric manevolence of a ruler
Set to dispose,the knight right
Chivalry of a mixed man.

Or a dirge ,
A lament of someone young
And fine,In verses set to a graveyard rime.
If my life was a song,
Than maybe a war cry-the sound of melee
And bombs which rob the day and night
Of people with dreams and azure wild dreams,
So as to satisfy the whims of one obscene.

If my life was a song,
I would rather be the praises
Of an exactitude,proposals
Of multitude to some Unseen
And one which the pride of
Man and ignorance is obsessed
And binds and bonds those who will free.

Or if my life was a song,
I shall be the verses of the bard,
Sung aloud in a kinder park of
Beautiful flowers and vivacious
Hearts all running to the willies
Of unknown dangers aware
Which seeked by a few who dare
And than inspired ,fought to wear
And in their arsenal sound memory’s wear.

Or a rare sound from a exotic bird,
One rare,precious chirp.
Or the virtual wisdom of a poet
And in that the wisdom’s tune,
Alive and upright,
Command and comrade,
Never to fade,
Into the shallow depths of human memory.

Yet what ever I may be,
A whine or a rhapsody,
I shall be the one who travels
The beyonds of any verse,
The corners of the hidden universe.
I shall be in my company-
The one who sees life
And death as one to sung
And then the instrument hung,
But never shall I end before another
Has begun,as the world in a song,
Seeks solace and in that phase,
I shall be the winds of change.

Mutiny’s tenacity,
That which can never be disconnected,
The works of masters mortal yet immortal,
Beyond moral and miser and miserable medieval
Macabre,the memoir of the birth of the universe,
Unbound and skinless and soulful and sounded
Strings of severe success in killing the cull-able
And pushing the dare-able
To the path of infinite morality,
One where no virtue but that of great
And echoed sounds of the beaten
Shall be a light to those who seek life within.

And as a song,
All along,in march
and in may
on a winter or a sunny day,
The sounds keep the world alive,
Oh! you blind who fails to hear this
Forever shall be self-cursed of the divine bliss.
Come alive and listen,if not to the world ,within,
The notes of the world are never missing,
For a missing verse,is worse than a visceral curse!

And if my life was a song,
I would all this, sing along,
In your sleep,
In your awaken dreams,
I shall pass on the mystery
And guard you, I shall be the sentry.
And yet do not take me for a mystic,
Just listen to me,
I am a prophet,
One by nature born to be,
If you do not act,
But in ignorance relax,
Faith shall curdle
And earth perish,
Lend a voice sing aloud,
Shout as a scout,
Or a bout of feverish hail,
If my life was a song,
I am being sung!!

If my life was a song,
I am being sung!
If my life was a song,
I am being sung.
Life has just begun
And forever it shall run!

The light shines the brightest

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