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(Verse 2)
I carve your name in whispers on the pages of my soul,
A misspent love, unspoken, makes my heartache for you whole,
With each sigh and every breath, I craft this lonely song,
Of a love that’s never said, but in silence, still feels strong.
(Chorus)
I’m a poet in the night, my heart forever alone,
A captive bird sings its secret song, in love but still just one,
In this realm of foolish love, I wear my broken crown,
A bittersweet, timeless tale where my heart remains spellbound.
(Bridge)
There is a beauty in my sorrow, and in the tears I hide,
In the way I love you from afar, where my heart resides,
For in the depths of lonely love, I can find my grace,
My shattered feelings hold me in a haunting, cold embrace.
(Verse 3)
As the seasons change and time begins to flow,
I know this love will never bloom, and it will never grow,
But I’m a dreamer in the dark, my words a gentle breeze,
In the world of unvoiced cares, I find my inner peace.
Wow. The words are powerful, but the phrasing knocks me out. I sit across from Penny, rereading as I move.
“You wrote this?” I ask, still somehow amazed at this girl’s talent, even though she’s already proven herself.
As I glance up from the notebook, I catch her furiously blushing and avoiding my gaze. “Well, Sloane is helping a lot…”
“I’m sure she is, but Penny, these lyrics are fantastic. Why don’t you show me what changes you’ve made to the music with words now in the mix.”
Her blush deepens even further somehow, and she tries to hide behind her hair. “Okay…”
“And, can you sing along as you play? I’d love to hear it all together.”
Now she looks like she’s about to faint, all that reddening and blushing draining completely.
Shit. In my excitement over the song, I’ve spooked her.
“I don’t know…” She clutches her guitar nervously, her knuckles turning pale.
“Don’t worry about it,” I say, trying to backtrack and make her more comfortable. “I can read along as you play. Just announce the sections if you can, like ‘Verse’ or ‘Chorus,’ okay?” I make my expression as encouraging as possible. The last thing I want to do is inadvertently discourage her fantastic creativity. “I’ll try to transcribe what you’re playing too.”
