The Cicatrices

Stains all over,
The recurring Stabs,
Impressions made by Them;
My Heart Bleeds,
The Wounds which were inflicted-
a long,long time ago,
Not losing its vigor.

The Tears that I once shed,
Have not dried-up,
The Stigmas have only gotten uglier;
The Cicatrices seem to turn into-
Wounds all over again.

My Soul yearns to flee away,
Emotions trapped within-craves for Tending,
A profound longing for Lovingness.
My Heart flutters in dismay,
Thoughts from the Past obscures it.

I shut my Eyes,
In the hope of  an alleviation from the Thoughts,
My Heart still languishing,
Chaos among my emotions occurring,
I could sense yet another Stab,
Right there-on the same Old Wound.
It  bleeds again,
Profusely.
Tears roll down my cheeks,
Just a mere indication of the Anguish i go through everyday.

The dejected state returns,
I try to wipe away those tears;
It appears not to cease.
Images from the Past-even the joyful ones,
seem to bring,
disappointment to my Soul.

A feeling of numbness haunts me,
Every now and then.
Will those Bruises heal completely?
The Ones which make,
my Emotions come to a standstill.
Will The Cicatrices go away?
I wonder.Desiring for a Day without Stains on it.

The Voice in the Dark-an articulation of my Passions,
Urging me to be Cheerful,
Beaming my Spirit with Belief,
Etching Heralds of Hope,
Convincing my Soul.
Then i could feel The Cicatrices wither away,
Fugitively,perhaps.

I do not know till how long,
the Calmness within me shall last,
And assuming the Cicatrices never existed,
I Smile and Strive Forward.

The Masked Strangers

The familiar scent of loneliness,
Began enveloping me,
Those invisible scars-
Started darkening.
The wounds in the past,
Jogging my memories,
That reclusive nature in me,
Revealed itself.

I did not desire for the Care of the World,
For all I could see was-
Envy and Hatred in every one of their Faces.
Love did not matter to me,
For I was lost.
In the frame of mind,
I was enticed by Them-
The Masked Strangers.

Their voices kept me alive-
from fading away;
Their Laughter made me Smile,
As Their words sunk deep,
into the chambers of my Heart,
I basked in Contentment,
for a while-at least.
The loquacious part of me bloomed,
in Their company.
Like true Comrades,
Their shadows joined hands with mine;
Their gentle utterances were melodic to my Soul.

I knew not how Their Faces looked like,
As They were concealed with Masks,
But They never wore,
a Mask on Their Hearts-
They were Humans with Humanity
unlike the Ones i knew.

Courage engulfed my Soul,
They had shown me the Light,
Strengthened me,
There was a joyous reunion of emotions,
In the aura of my Soul,
Reflected from the enthusiasm in Their voices.

They taught me to Love,
my Masked Comrades.

They never removed Their Masks,
from Their Faces,
Yet i knew They were Graceful ones.

They vanished,
Once They knew I was secure enough.

Their voices still resonates in my Soul,
I can still feel Their shadows accompanying me,
Always by my side,
Guiding me.

Hence They will,
forever be my Masked Comrades,
unlike the Masked Strangers,
i once opined Them to be.