How do you do the impossible?
How do you atone and let your sin be undone?
How do you speak your feelings loud,
how do you confess your love?
How do you ever explain
all else's colour that you stowed?
How do you apologize?
How do you beg your pardon?
How do you eulogize
when nothing remains
but a dark carton?
How do you tell the person,
what you did was wrong?
How do you make it up
to someone who is gone?
Nurture, nurture,
a field of pain,
nurture, oh my dear heart!
a guilt restrained...
Let it grow, eat you up...
And let your heart hope
that you are forgiven
when with death you elope...
© Karthik Adithya Singaraju
2 comments:
Always there is hope of being forgiven, yet it often begins with forgiving ourselves. Powerful, thought provoking piece.
Karthik,
Such a deeply thought poem. It is difficult to ever have all the answers, even from the living.
I understand this very well, as I would love to have challenged my father about his treatment of me, over many years. I respected his age, by not challenging him at the time. Now it is too late and I still want answers from him, even after 22 years!
Eileen :)
Post a Comment