A Call from the Violin
Not a sound
box,
not even a set
of box
but box of musical
rhythms
and rhapsody
in my
hands of core.
my
violin is made
of
German make
and super
Wood polished
and soft.
Bow and strings
of horse hair
Pervade up and
down,
Perchance notes of message
Of End and
void.
A call
of voice no more
Could be gainsaid,
a voice
Of universal
verve and
Vivacity, A
call of metaphor
Of vibrant
notes.
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