Heart:
Look at her
and tell me-
is there anything more beautiful?

Mind:
Maybe a smile
that would have drowned in a sea of tears
but to the surface, managed to paddle through-
A smile without compromise,
that reveals for a moment, all of you

Heart:
I have a book of songs,
a collection of antique emotions,
carefully crafted for someone
Like how seedlings germinate
inside the womb of the good green Earth
feeling the warmth of a watchful Sun

Yet I pick up another,
a chronicle sans embellishments,
A tale every bit pure, every bit unspun
A familiar fear grips me -
clouds me, maims me, ****** me
as I open it with glum expectations

But I feel myself break,
to know of my absence from this tome,
with each page I anxiously turn
Did I not deserve
a chapter, a line, atleast a word?
Maybe I will find a footnote - none!

Mind:
Oh my dear heart,
Do not expect in return something better
because you've surrendered to her memories
Equivalence is just, but justice is not a quality

How do you plan to **** the one
whom you've already granted immortality?

Heart:
Wise one! Hearken to me,
for I need enlightening
-there stands a tree
in a part of me
once where flowers of love blossomed
and sparrows used to sing
to the mornings of eternal spring
Now the flowers have wilted
the birds have flown from their nests
yet the branches continue to grow
and the roots still run deep
I have not the courage
to task myself with its rearing
My memories of springtime
are still fresh, still endearing

Mind:
I'm afraid there is
but one cure for this disease
Along with the soil
that so graciously hosts it,
You must uproot this tree
and spend the rest of your life
as an amputee

Mind:
Why must you always reconcile?
Do you not have a sense of self-respect?

Heart:
You see, wise one,
I used to believe that
I'm not the only one who cared.