Odd Hours Poem by SANJAY DAS

I wanna be your final word
When your troubles do mount,
And not just a password
Of your email account;

A face you would own
All the blames to take,
And not a pendant alone
Hanging by your neck.

Your devils that tame
I wanna be the fist,
And not just a name
Etched on your wrist;

A song that makes you sleep
And all your pain mends,
And not your everyday gossip
Among fair weather friends.

Take me in your heart baby
Through all your odd hours;
Not just in your flight of fancy
Amid ivory towers.