with conviction i walk not giving another thought to my inefficiency.
assurance i know not of,
perfection is not really a thought.
all i shout about is my brokenness,
An instrument that makes dead souls talk.
It's not about the years in life but the life in years
and that's the life I speak of
Life that has felt the power of my strings,
Life that knows the intensity of my tune.
I am BROKEN LYRE,
complete in my brokenness.
the brokenness is a comfort,
the brokenness buries all the emptiness.
sometime life leaves us with no choice
and i m glad that i chose to be me
ME, an instrument that makes music.
i cannot be seen nor touched,
my strength lies in the power,
the power that people feel when they hear of my undying tune.
happy I am in my own incapability,
with conviction i walk not giving another thought to my inefficiency.
i am a BROKEN LYRE, happy in my brokenness...




