A Messege

The hands do never rest
Clocks its tick tock ways,
& so many words just get swallowed
amidst the waves of million hollows.

O thee, the breeze that blows,
Send my message, echo thy glows.
Read my lips, my heart that shouts
the loud silence echoin' around.

If once lest your breath just slow,
Should my rhythm apart, that she might know.
The tumbling feet may never rise.
For her will see even my closed eyes.