Midnight Solo

The doors are shut at the end of this street
This lingering drunkenness connecting the poetry with the missing dots...
Dragging the sober words all along to the closed doors
The shadows dancing to the blues of the mid night skies
And the whistle from the ghosts dancing with the cold winter winds!

Over a bottle of wine the moon light shines,
Till the charisma of the full moon devours the dark skies
Resurrecting the dead sane saints from the tombs of this street, to sing the holy songs
Song of the poetry knocking the doors at the end of the lonely streets
As the bass woos the lady in the white, the peace
The stench of the scarlet vanishing in to the night!

Imagine the jazz at the end of this backstreet
Dancing to the music the sober soul sings the poetry
Till the doors are broken, never to shut any more
While the Ghosts dance all alone, the winds disappear...
AS the night sky begins to unfold into the dark blues,
The shadows vanish into the worlds unknown!

With the lady in white returning to the palace from behind the locked doors
There lay the guitars deep with in the coffin, waiting to return to life
As the day light hits the empty bottle of wine,
Sober soul falls prey to the drunkenness of the world !
Neither the poetry nor the music attracts the attention,
Nor can a passing soul understand what is being said or sung...