Grief shared or personal is intense and potent a bolt from the blue it strikes universally without any reservations
A dark ominous cloud it descends and shadows sunshine and augurs unwanted transformation
Bewildered you gaze and struggle to gauge the devastation and helplessly yield in resignation
As cautiously you tread to retrieve the fragments of bygone bliss keen shards bleed the festering wounds and dull all sensation.
Grief is a long journey arduous and daunting across barren arid lands unrehearsed untrained a stupendous endeavor mandatory to be accomplished
A journey unforeseen unplanned and unwished inadvertently chaotic to stumble to falter undecided
Coursing angry roads with myriad pitfalls and shallows steering through damned alleys blind curves till sensibility is grounded
Vacillating over torments anguish and unfounded frivolous reproach some conflicting passions which surge unabated.
Grief is an intruder a faceless manifestation stealthily it ensconces in numbed spaces and shattered aspiration
A vile trespasser encroaching on fragile consciousness disrupting and severing all healthy association
Consistently preying on wholeness sanity and blessedness it urges the very essence of life towards isolation
It cradles life in affliction and abject wretchedness and ushers bitter cold desperation.
Grief is a tormentor seething and fuming it raves and rants with unbridled fury many wars it wages
An impotent rage incarcerated within clawing and gnawing it unleashes a fury untamed and savage
If unchallenged and unconquered it reigns supreme ravaging the soul with callous destruction surpassing divine outrage
Relentlessly it advances colors vision clouds sane perception and threatens existence is a demon on rampage.
If grief is a visitor overpowering and fated let its visitation be brief and restrained
Something is changing somethings must change a fresh dawning is emerging unrestrained
To melt and thaw to bloom again to spring back in spring once again
Often from the tangled and scattered mess fragrant wreaths and garlands can be woven a welcome gain.
~By: Veena Umesh Sood~
~Image Courtesy: Pinterest~
Give sorrow words; The grief that does not speak knits up the o-er wrought heart and bids it to break. – William Shakespeare