The heart appears to have its own orchestra,
like the beating of drums when it is hopelessly infatuated,
or the melancholy of a violin when a lover moves away
Even in solitude, there’s the airy notes of a flute
the toots of a trumpet in jubilation,
the gentle strumming of a sitar in a loved one’s embrace
Heart is the masterful conductor, lending its own symphonies,
beautiful and unrestrained.