The Beating Of A Human Heart

By Swati Singh

It beats, it beats. Hear it! It beats,

it is a human heart indeed.

It beats, it beats, it beats so

This heart is a human's heart...isn't it?

It beats, it beats but...

This heart doesn't think, it doesn't feel, doesn't flutter,

No, not with love, this heart beats only for blood,

It races, yes, when these legs race too,

Indeed, it also trembles as any heart would,

but only when this body falls down a great height,

So, yes, it beats, it beats but this tiny little thing,

This heart doesn't think.

"Think with your heart, choose what it desires,” they harp,

But if this heart doesn't desire?

“When lost on this path of life, follow your heart,” they say,

But if this heart doesn’t lead?

“Your heart will never lie,” they claim,

But if this heart doesn't speak?

If it doesn't feel, doesn't think, doesn't inquire,

Does it become a liar?

Yes, yes, it used to beat once, not just for blood,

It used to beat with joy,

It once enjoyed the thrill of living, once felt the pain of loss,

Once, it even flipped and flopped with mischief and love.

But now it lies beating, just beating, because now

This heart functions.

Perhaps it became numb from pain,

Perhaps it grew weary of thinking with age,

Perhaps it found this mind an unworthy companion,

Perhaps it hid in fear, tucked away in the cavity of this chest,

Or maybe, that it once beat is just fading a dream.

I wonder, I wonder, little heart of mine,

Will you ever beat again with time,

Will these dreams and passions and lies

No longer be a disguise.

By Swati Singh