The Pray

Affairs of significance befell early this year.
You and I, odd coupled, lost objects of admire.
I misplaced the thing that beat in my chest.
You lost the thing that once embraced your neck.
We displaced our hearts. I am in your debt.
Your possession was theft; snatched from your breast.
It is not a gift. It is a souvenir.
To enshrine a time that brought us near.
Shares of your heart are enclosed.
If given the smallest, I’ll be hallowed.

Like what you read? Give Saayed a round of applause.

From a quick cheer to a standing ovation, clap to show how much you enjoyed this story.