In the womb of deep slumber,
In the arms of unawareness,
Under the blanket of impregnable darkness,
You lie alone like the frozen hopes of a dying man,
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Oblivious of the pain and grief doing riot,
Tired and eyes shut to the stabs of grief.
The bond of common pain binds us nearer;
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I, on the visible side of the moon,
Find my pains stab in lunar rhythms,
While you, on the invisible side,
Hide from the stabs and wounds of grief
In the slow grind of the loneliness
And run with the time to far horizons.
I know, my cries never reach your ears,
A wall of time stands between us
And deepens our grief and common pain.
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