My heart
When i take to narrating
The heart's tales of others
Wherever I record the hearty
Feelings of others,
I forget my own self,
Of course, unnoticed
While pursuing the shadows of
Others, my mind escapes that of my own.
Taking the account of the wounds that others
Bear at heart, i fail realize
That my own heart is blood- stained.
The time i share the SORROWS made clot long
Of someone, my Own Agonies
Get on with for a way out
None ever pats my shoulder
Nor my back out of Sympathy.
This is when
A stranger comes about
with Utterances of high
Relations with me through
Kindred Syntax and ties
Me up with Affection
But mounts my Shoulder
Like the unwelcome vampire of the Myths
To question inaccessibly
Form the Dust to skies
From life to desire and salvation
She parts company
On listening to the right answer
You're not the one or the first, there're few unlucky people like you on Earth who are born to get themselves exhausted in illuminating others lives & in return you will end up in eternal pain.
ReplyDeleteGood people are pre destined to get hurt. History & Nature is full of such examples.