Art of Its Own

Pluck a string,
and watch it vibrates,
it resonates together with my skin.

Bow the hair against the strings,
the wood vibrates beneath my chin,
it resonates together with my soul.

Watch a drop of water falls,
it plops on the water surface,
it plinks on the metal bar.

My fingers dived to the keys,
My feelings reflect through its sound,
The heart is the key to a tune.

Breath from within one's stomach,
Blown into the tiny holes,
Melodic yet refreshing like the wind.

Music to the ears who listens,
Noise to the ears who filters.
Expression to the one who creates it..