A heart cringing with pain while alive
Screams out loud
Through tears of ink by which it bleeds
Pints of bloody unsaid words
On papers of memories never shared
Leaving a permanent mark of regret
On hearts that wish they had cared while it lived.
There is a heart that still beats life’s sound,
Yet ailing from lack of a sound life,
That craves a healing
Beyond the religious mantra of
“brother it is well”;

A heart that craves a humane touch,
That seeks compassion from even more human eyes.

Soon enough it realizes
How far from reality its craving is.
It realizes that man has found a religious way of being inhuman;
That the hands that should heal
Caress the screens of gadgets from sunrise to sunset,
And eyes that should see through to the soul
Only see the nonexistent smile long replaced by a glaring frown.

It realizes sadly that today,
Being your brother’s keeper
Means being your brother’s killer –
Through sharp swords of scornful words,
Through ridiculous jokes of mockery
which the rest of the world laughs out loud to
And shares around a worldwide web of conspirators;
Through eyes blind to his sorrows in life
Yet Awake to his misery in death.


The heart that sees no healing in sight
Seeks solace in wood turned soft paper –
Where it engraves its pain
In words too deep for spoken speech
Made even softer by the tears its bleeds
Tears that never get wiped off –
Tears of ink.

Image credit: phenomenallady.wordpress.com


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