The Dark Keys

I have the piano keys,

Printed on my body.

Black and white,

Dull and bright.

At some points,

Notes are the darkest.

At others,

Just an unheard sigh.

The darkest ones,

Took the most beating.

Play these together,

To hear a melodious cry.

The rhyming of words,

Got lost in hiccups.

All I remember,

Is a noisy belt.

Each smash,

Recorded a note of a cry.

Each wound has a,

Pitch of scream.

If you need,

More notes,

Grab that belt,

And print more keys on me.

I have the dark keys printed on me,

That play a melodious cry.

Play them carefully,

To enjoy my sighs.

Zain Iqbal

Decoding the stories that the Nature has saved in its heart. A writer by hobby.

Posts by Zain Iqbal | Website