Priya ChouhanCity lights turned off, roads emptied,
flash of moon glow illuminated the eyes.
Stream of honey flowed in her throat,
in the darkest hour, heard an irresistible
nightingale’s melody.
Kneeled by my wounded heart, feathers caressed
sunken cheeks,
was comatose for years, thoughts drifting
towards a bleak landscape.Euphonious sound in the midst of suffering,
repaired my dead cells, the melody was comforting.
Slept on her lap, provided me enough warmth,
love re-birthed me, trauma crept away,
the song continued.
The night is leaving, the day knocked at my door,
a harmonious voice, the nightingale is gone.
Stream of nightingale’s melody!
