Sanctity has a voice,
my inner sanctity.
My voice re-flexed when asked about love,
it craved, deepened and split,
into halves , Halves that caused lives.
This sanctity riddles me most,
governed like the Crust.
I caused lives and took away too,
to find my own.
I found you,
the Halves came to rest.
And Oh how the Forty Kilometer speak.
They Churn and Churn and consume the froth too.
The whole is never split, and halves are weak.
the riddle of the heart,
buried in screaming society.
Let it ruin your voice,
your sanctity,
The halves shall meet the whole will lie free.