A Promise

To part or to stay?

I cannot clearly think,

Amidst this disarray.

I had informed you once,

That I'll just fade away

I've held a visceral sense,

For nearly six of months.

A thing which I, to you, divulged.

I meant no least reproof

But wished to merely show the proof..

A mark of my dismay.

Am I too far to heal your scar,

And ease to cease this rough disease?

But who's diseased? Oh I'm deceased.

A lonely soul; morose and dry..

If you still think..that I'm defrauding

Just because my eyes won't blink,

If still, you think exists no hope

Would you then get the stethoscope?

Because, indeed, the heart

...does never lie.

(For It's a spontaneous organ; too busy carrying out a momentous task that it affords not the luxury of pausing to fake a feeling or fabricate a truth.)