When I was lowered
Into the boundless chasm
Besieged by the dark,
You awaited with an incandescent fire,
Leaving me in bewilderment
Of how you could enshroud the dark in me
Without ever entering it.

You are a parallel between
oblivion and cognisance;
You encase me in a mirrorball
Shrouded from the world,
And the mirrors reflect
Nothing but us.

I still keep you awaiting in exile,
For I fear that you will notice the reflection
Which I fought against for years,
And then, hide away from my scars.

But even if oblivion and cognisance unparalleled,
And the strings connecting our souls untangled,
I will look after the scars.
For beneath the loss, beneath the skin,
It was once not besmeared with blood but bliss.

Scars are not a tarp which contain the calamity.
But a field in which forsaken bliss is buried.

© Netra.