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"