I wish the world could weave the broken hearts,
But the inevitable truth is,
Even if it is healed,
And I hate the fact that,
It won't be same anymore.
Even if we wish it could.

There will be a mark of
Threads concealing the pain.
But,
The Mark is constant.

The sunflowers longed for the
Love and care,
Which just left in a wrenching way,
May be the sunflowers shouldn't be coming to the garden anymore,
Just not to make the heart feel unloved.

Don't tell me you miss my words,
But I have already
vanished somewhere
When my words had no care.

Let us be
Beautiful
In a way we are,
Mixed up with,
Brokenness,
Lovelessness,
Uncared,
Scars,
And imperfections.

This silence may be nothing
But internally
It's pulling the heart out,
Making the soul break,
Diamond droplets forced
To travel amidst the chubby cheeks.

Let me cure your despair
With much infinitesimal
Subtlest love.

The moon is already so happy
To have your words on it
Like a Lilly in the dessert