It is melancholic how hilarious the tricks of heart are,
It feels wounded, splintered, wrecked.
And one fine day, it just lets it go.
The darkness and light alternate in the vaults of heaven,
But perpetual night resides at your core.
And then one fine day, you just let it go.
Remorse dries away like the tears on your cheeks.
Love fizzles away, trace of it remaining like a shadow…
Omnipresent, but ever so naturally unnoticed.
Tragedy, after all, is comedy of a kind.
For how humorously mournful heart’s pain truly is…
If one fine day, it just lets it go.