Two hearts seek a voice,
Through the clutter of choice.
Though discordant beats heightens,
And the music is not yet ripened.
They seek the master conductor,
With a maestro wield as instructor;
Who Makes harmony of warring tunes,
And From noise, a melody is pruned
Soon the voice did come,
Laced on sounds from the drums.
Bringing our feet to a stand,
Making a dance not planned.
From chords that makes hearts beat,
And melodies that makes motion on seat.
Comes a rhythmic dance amid the chaos.
And two souls are soothed, and made as us.