Songs Poem by welkin siskin

Songs, as I listen to, circulates ripples of joy inside me,
I am crept, tickled, and silenced.
Everything fades away but songs.
Songs of life, both bitter and sweet.
Just a string of voice reechoes pure rhapsody
I think nothing, I become nothing
just an empty void
The feeling of tireless day vanishes,
And my body unanimously surrenders
To the ripple of what's not just enjoyable
but soothing, healing, and entrancing.
@ Welkin Siskin