Discovering the chords and my song

Then, my heart was full of song,

But didn't know how to put it,

And that's when I heard the strains-

From the Spanish guitar...

I was allured by the notes he played,

It soothed me and disturbed me,

Stirring my song, from amber to flames…

I asked him to teach me

The magic touch on the strings;

And every day I learnt, sitting

On that park bench, when people 

Randomly threw alms to him.

One evening, he was missing,

And I heard people talking,

" Oh the poor man killed himself,

He was gifted indeed"

He left, putting the myriad facets of octaves in me.

And I grew into my adolescence-

Searching for the words for my song…

To exhibit myself through what I sang,

Just not another, romance or melancholy;

But the 'me'...

And in that bookstore, I randomly picked 

A book at the farther corner of shelf,

And I flipped the pages;

Each verse a resonance of myself…

This writer ruined me!

I found my voice in there-

The revolutionary, Frederico Gracia Lorca …

And one day, I wrote Hallelujah;

The riddles of life followed me all through,

And I sang them, broken and bleak-

And Everybody knows…

Tribute to the great Leonard Cohen