A heart that cannot be touched by sincerity, is a heart that has no use, 

Other than to pump the blood that provides a mechanical life, 

A life that has no meaning, missing even a semblance of what is important. 

It is a dead heart, though it may beat, as it beats for nothing but the mind’s entertainment, 

Making empty gestures and base desires into love that does not exist.

It beats for nothing. 

A heart that cannot reach another, is a heart that has no use, 

Though it pumps the blood through arteries and veins.

It may beat with true sincerity, love, but it has nothing to receive it, 

And, hence, its beating is futile, wasted desire. 

And, though it wanted nothing more than to touch another, it will eventually die. 

It beat for nothing.