They say your lips don't make an ample curve
They say you don't spot a star when darkness throngs
They say you swear, know not you care
They say an obduracy dulls your heart
And you will hold the grave of a callous wretch
An austere tomb, you know for sure

Those scars beneath your armour in shine
Those cries thwarted by lips pursed
And words swallowed and glances strayed
And every whit of an addled smile
Those are entitled to my possession
Tears kissed away by my soul
And angst lulled by my very breath

This warmth withheld, they'll never know
And I should live for an eternity more
To make petals grace the dark humus
While you slumber down in serenity.
© Devika