Erased

Shall I start with a dear. a hello friend

To grab hold of this stormy mind.

The silence cripples and poisons your hour of rest

Lying there in hues or gray and blue.

What you need is not a physical comfort

Nor short pleasures of love or sweets.

Instead, an impregnable voice to grab hold your hand

Swat away the voices in your blackened head.

Slick and cuning it may be

For it has drown you in its salt sweet seas.

For each swat it's numbers thrice for hunger

Of the vulnerable mind darkened by years.

No remains, name, memories of you being here

Therefore, I must address myself by nothing else but "Dear"