Agonized

There are no limits of loving, no extent of expressions,
But Oh,
Could it be more aching to know, that everything is shadowed,
Sheathed beneath the layer of a constant disbelief,

True Love isn't just a phrase to a poet's eye,
Because for each one of us who writes of love,
Fathoms its truest intensity and deepest depths,
But alas,
What a stinging knowledge it is, to be confronted,
With rejection, spurning and mistrust,

Even stone suffers scars once hammered repeatedly,
This is a mere heart, striked with continuous repudiation,

Why would the ink splatter such hymns,
Had it not been from the soul's unseen depths?
And the dilemma erupts within,
Between the heart and the soul,
Where mind remains a mere audience,
The heart wishes to show its discontent with a prolonged silence,
But the soul, it bombards restlessly until it becomes impervious,
For the heart to remain in the same form, without giving in to the soul,
Such is the turmoil within me,
Which I am confident that you do not fathom........

(c) (S.S)