SCARS

It is been rightly said that the language is scarce

For the words are not enough to describe

The pain inflicted upon me

I have been wounded many times

Some do heal

But some leave behind

A constant reminder

Of the betrayal

Of the misery

Of the broken trust

Of the void left in me

That God knows what could fill it back

All in the form of scars

They over shadow me

And tend to never leave my side

When in dark or light

And prove to be

A constant reminder

Of my mistake

Of my consent

Of my very acceptance of the fate

Of the treacherous happiness

That my heart felt

Which appears fake

Something which my traitorous heart tricked me into…

I tried to erase them

Screen them

And what not

To conceal myself

Of the loss I suffered

Of this unendurable agony

Of the tasted forbidden fruit

Of the beautiful possibility of the road not taken

And the magnificent landscapes I would have adored

While treading the unknown territories

But my feet abandoned those prospects…

The scars are dreadful and unbearable

I don’t thank for their presence

Each individual could construe them their way

But I would brand them as lessons and await the tomorrow

Which shells the hopeful pearls

Of my glory

Of the zenith I would embrace

Of the happiness kissing me

Of the perpetuation of risks

For no matter how many nightmares I encounter

I would not stop looking for the dreams…

Which could accept me Along with my scars

However gruesome they may be

For the burnt pages make

The book worth reading…

(even if I would have to dance alone in the rain)