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–
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
We will bump into our own dimensions
And wonder-full of expectedness
Of hearts like you
And a worst caretaker like me.
~ Summiaya Nilofer Kichloo