The beautiful pain

Oh words I wonder sometimes if you’re loud enough to speak .

A feeling that’s hard to shape, hard to comprehend, hard to ignore. It just aches, but it’s beautiful. A dark shinny butterfly gently swaying it’s perfect wings inside, with every sway perfectly matching my dancing pain. Left-out feeling like a spectator helplessly admiring it’s dance despite the cruelness of it's pain. Staring with looks of confusion, blinding me from the world. Talking people never sounded so mute, never looked so foggy and dull. I couldn’t see no more. A restless search, looking and wandering aimlessly, lost between disoriented dimensions. The setting sun waving the flag of salvation, announcing the marching night to it's throne. Eyes craving the softness of the pillow, shedding it’s warm tears channeling what once couldn’t be comprehended. Eyes missing whom once read their pages, with an effortless glazing stare. A missing piece. A piece already found but can’t be reached. Between my hands but can’t be held. All what I owned seemed so insignificant, all who gave love, I couldn’t feel, all who screamed with pain, I couldn’t hear. A blinding piece, so divine with it’s sparkling twinge.



“Are you okay” they ask. A rushing, effortless, unthinkable answer: “Am Fine” would be. Escaping what can’t be said or explained. Everything seemed so dull, losing interest in spirits surrounding me. Solitude was the act of the day, like a shrine that I needed to regularly visit. “You look confused, like you’re looking for something” The Elite said. Is it that obvious? Can you see the beauty of that confusion? With a sparkly eyes, craving whom could comprehend. Confusion holding the secret of what was once found, of what was once felt. Eyes were the spoken language. Silence was the sacred ritual. And harmony of the soul was it's tradition. With it’s exotic source and unannounced arrival, it aroused. It made death such a perfection, living life to the fullest in just a crisp of a moment, ready to perish tracing no regrets, wearing the badge of “Life lived fully”. You wake up with this moment retreating to it’s pure roots. Your heart racing faster than a glowing flame, giving you restless nights, with the dawn knocking on your door, asking to share your pain. With the dawn standing helplessly in your presence, catching your tears with a chilled touch of it’s gloomy wind. As the sun rises, your head rises along, facing the heavens, with a comforting pain from within. A pain evanescently whispering “the sun is yet to come announcing the holy night, carved with a glowing silence carrying traces of what was once found, and what was once felt”.