They had feverish gratitude of togetherness.

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Weak smile
(Read caption)

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I have always felt resentment
When life was a chaos of grief;
Mixed with thousands of feelings,
Interwined with each other,
With waves of tears and of sufferings,
Till I became all empty; with nothingness,
Till all my silence took me to
My deep well of hollowness,
I never felt meloncholy a blessing,
When to feel anything was better
Than fading with each layer of blankness.

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You are slowly turning;
Into a war-like city,
Where your defeats
Struck like thousands
Of thorns peirce altogether
At once and intersect
At the very core
Of your wounds,
Where your voice
Is wrapped in layers of silence,
How you make enduring violence
Look like a tame nightmare?

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When you don't feel your
Days of blue and of rainbow,
You are in a process of becoming a
Blossom within mud;
an anthem within violence;
A vulnerable victim of broken disaster.

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I can identify all the blue,
In your rainbow art;
You are covering your vivid
Despairs,
In the name of colourful healing.

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I reflect my solitude between
The silent spaces of lonely poetry;
Too much chaos with emptiness.

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To be broken is like to be wild,
You are half ripped through your guilt,
And half lost to search for your
visionless victory.

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Recovery takes time,
It's kind of a fragile art
That fills the crack of emptiness;
Not actually vanishing the pain away
But turning it into
A symmetry of creative defeat.

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Metopher
(Read short potry in caption)

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