Misdeeds stare like unhealed wounds
There isn’t a cure yet, the heart is unwilling to seek
Nothing can stop the curve from turning away from light
Night foams menacingly; it’s a sinister sign
Forfeited all that was offered
Trepid breath speaks to the darkness
Soon, the light will fizzle, and the paths blurry
Faint reflections too will turn away in hatred
Those responsible for muddling the thoughts have disappeared
No sentinels who can keep an eye on trespassers
A widening distance between the healing and wounds
Every effort comes to naught in the turmoil
Reckoning the other times are futile now
~Amitav
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