Hold My Hand

Treading upon a thread so fine, Finer than the strands of silken twine, Ah, but we err in our belief, For hair is but a protein sheaf, A chain of amino acids, aligned. Is this vision but a mere mirage? A fleeting, ghostly apparition? Why then do they link, Like carriages of a train, in sync? Perhaps harmony is the adhesive, Binding them in a dance so vivid, Racing along life's fervent passage. I ponder, perhaps the line we tread, Is nought but points, closely wed, In the fabric of togetherness spread. Come, take my hand, let us forge A lifeline, a path to endorse, Disregard the trifles, my Love, For nature cherishes balance above. © 25/09/2014 Malik Yaseen