And sometimes they only whisper in the night
Like a faded melody, horrible and distant
But too loud to drown out.
Their voices entangle like a mingled web.
Incomprehensible, the things they whisper,
Yet I find myself listening to them intently.
I wait for slumber to engulf me,
As the black hole in space swallows even the light
Leaving nothing behind of this loathed reality.
But I like this feeling of being torn and tormented,
Pained and agonized by my own fancies.
A candy in the sour mouth, sweetness pours
From the rim of something similar to moonlight
Can I then name myself the Moon Child?
I'm drawn to the only light in this darkness,
One cascaded by the moon. But in a few days
I fear the crescent too will settle down to rest.
So he comforts me, saying, "Understand it, love.
Every shine will fade for the time being
But they shall again gleam soon like the full moon.
You won't be able to brighten their darkest corners
But you can still provide them the luminous they seek
In this darkness of life, hiding stretched sufferings in
instants of brittle joys."
Do not forget to rest. Disappear only to rise again. Fade and settle down than to provide only the dimming glow, But rise and this time rise brighter than before.
_hira
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Grief too is Melodic
PoetryA collection of poetry and prose, feelings and emotions, love and loss. Written with the intention that it may give voice to the thoughts that hold you hostage, thoughts that remain a distant hum to your grief. Written with the intention that you r...
