06 Aug, 2013 12:48 PM
My friend I know, I am only face to you.
And everything you search is in my face.
White, beauty-ugly, sorrow-sad and black.
But my friend my face is not prophetic soul
Sometime it will not delight you
Sometime it will puzzled your voice.
Sometime your eyes struggles to see colors behind the clouds.
Or sometime I cloths its nakedness
My friend, I am only voice to you
And everything you want to learn is in my voice
Thick, anger-surprise-happiness and thin.
But my friend my voice is not moonlight
It will not hover your soul every time.
Nor will it move you often
Often Strings of throat will get cut
And low will be pitching and I will be arti-music.