Tiled concrete, chilled air. My eyes weary.
Never before have I been to something of this sort,
Boring in nature, though I kept a positive mind.
A promise is a promise and I did Promise my friend.
It began-----
Never will I forget this beautiful night,
Where an angel from above marveled my sight.
So many voices, rhythmic as should be
But There is one, it speaks to my soul—you see
My eyes travel across quickly following that one harp,
Her language tells a story, so keen, so sharp.
Strong in nature, soft in touch,
Others tread close but far from her as such.
Oh no! It's not just the sound,
Also the movements, gentle yet profound.
I sit but stand mentally, my face in awe.
Such talent, skill I swear, is what I saw.
Boring I expected, t'was terribly wrong,
I loved this, everything, the song.
The song, No the voice! the movements! The girl?
Her skill certainly stands higher than this world.
Show me angel, I want to hear your voice once more,
Please I beg, I will hear again, I swore.
Never will I forget that beautiful night,
Where an angel from above marveled my sight.
To this day I still remember, my stomach flutters every time I think of her,
Her inner self I fell in love with, that Beautiful Night.
