I am the lustre of sweet songs,
I am the vibration of music:
I am the voice of own heart praying
I am the child toying with long, dark curls,
Lost in pensive thoughts...
While looking at his mother's face:
How we two are different?
Now, I am here sitting in his presence,
And I find myself bowing—
As he is imparting his divine grace,
Filling me with his sweet sound rebounding.
Mykoul
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