LISTEN

Oh dear sound of heart
Why are you out for sorts?
Is it because, the hearts you were
A heart to, are not heart’s anymore?

But much tragic is that you don’t
Have hands so I can pull out of blues
But thy my dearly heart, didn’t I told
You to not skip a beat for hearts that are–
dead?

Alas to you, for convincing me for our drained-destroying
How sweetly with your sound and pace you have sound-mailed me
Don’t give a space to fear clouds over you
And don’t be afraid when it rains over you

I will be an umbrella over you
And beneath
We will bump into our own dimensions
And wonder-full of expectedness
Of hearts like you
And a worst care taker like me.