Every heart houses a story,
Nurtured and Beaten and Loved;
Part of them are perfect,
Much more lay there with scarred histories.
Perfectly imperfect melts millions of hearts;
Such a beautiful thing, the heart!
Every story houses a heavy lock,
The key lays with the people who left their footprints!
Some keys are treasured,some are buried, some more are lost,
Sometimes battered egos win in broken bonds!
Still, all the stories are worth a read, a perfectly imperfect comic.
Such a beautiful thing, the game of locks and keys.
Every Lock has treasure of memories, so languid;
Of maelstroms and broken promises,
Of sunshine smiles and hearty laughs,
Not often spoken are the bygone days!
Perfectly imperfect are those memories hidden
Such a thing of beauty, the warmth of the memories.
Every memory is a priceless possession
None can own, none can destroy
In this vortex of life, they guide you in the lost path,
Meanders again, the little heart;
To the heavy locks, cherished memories and priceless possessions.
Such a thing of Beauty, this life.