Sreejon Nandy Mazumdar
The heart wants what it wants;
Or so they say, feigning justification.
And true as it may be,
It leaves a trail of utter desolation.
Follow your heart, they say;
For it holds desires, undoubtedly true.
But the mind does wander,
Lost amongst the emotions in this milieu.
And on a sleeve, the heart
doth lay, fluttering in this lovestruck breeze.
Like a wee butterfly,
Wings poised to let it soar across the skies with ease.
And so it does, soar far
Beaming with unbridled positivity,
Unaware of what lay;
Dismembered by fate’s frigid ferocity.
Lifeless, rigid, it falls
Sinking down into the depths of one's despair.
Burned to ashes it lay,
To be reborn from its tears, gasping for air.
So the cycle goes on,
As we keep letting ourselves be ripped apart
And stitched back up, just tofall back down; Such are the matters of the heart.