Under the moonlight's quiet stare,
six strings hum in the midnight air.
Fingers dance, the chords collide.
The night
becomes my muse,
my guide.
Oh, the stars, they sing along
to the rhythm of my wandering song.
A melody born where shadows play,
right in dreams till the break of day.
The wood feels warm beneath my hand,
a faithful ship on a sea of sand.
Each strum, a ripple, each note a flame.
The darkness listens.
It knows my name.
Oh, the stars, they sing along to the rhythm
of my wandering song.
A melody born where shadows play,
right in dreams
till the break of day.
Clock forgets its ticking tune as whispers rise to greet the moon.
The pen stays silent.
The heart speaks loud,
lost in a night that wears no shroud.
I write for the lonely, the dreamers, the lost,
for hearts that ache and lines uncrossed.
The guitar weeps and the silence cheers in the night's embrace.
No room for fears.
I write
for the lonely,
the dreamers,
the lost,
for hearts that ache and lines uncrossed.
The guitar weeps and the silence cheers in the night's embrace.
No room for fears.