Catching trains, cowering under unforgiving rains,
Hushed by the minute, forced to speak the next
Expectations thrown from over-high,
No breaks let to fulfill the ones before
A sigh slips through this endless ache,
The heart beats for the day when the pain can be laid out,
A blanket of arm to keep the agony out.
The heart wants a love, not just any of the many,
A romance that sends all its (heart's) fond melodies wafting in the air,
A synchrony of the perfect crony of euphony
The caring that fills its corners,
Like an old worn-out jumper cradling fond memories
The heart wants a love, not just any of the many,
Relished like a hot cup of coffee,
Having lost its warmth to the cold bleak winds
An enduring aching for one another,
That beats the blows of misery and sorrow
The heart wants a love, not just any of the many,
A love that remains as fresh as the pages of a cherished book,
And as familiar as the ink on the off-white
A shrine that remains alive with prayers for years,
An altar wetted with sacrificial tears,
Witness to a never-fading whisper,
Chanting this truth,
Wanting this truth,
Aching for this truth.
This heart seeks a love,
Oh, there's fear in its nooks
Will it be loved despite a thousand tiny scars?
Will the lover cradle its ache,
Till it is but a distant pain?
Is true happiness ever in its cards,
Or did fate seal its story with a deceitful smirk?
Is love made for its battered soul,
Or is it the plaything of the rich,
Drunk on gales of joy?
This heart wants a love,
The one that outshines the many
It lays its head against the table,
It will wait years for that something stable.
YOU ARE READING
A budding writer's collection
PoetryJust a bunch of poems written as and when I feel to write them
