We cry, we moan for the love we want
We make hopeless efforts to carry on
Despite numerous heartbreaks which welcome us wryly
We wish to give the ‘love’ another shot.
The pervasive clatter, the persistent bickering
And the echoes of bellow which are heart-shattering
Tear our beings and flinch our peace
Something breaks in us putting our grief at ease.
Little do we know the value of ourselves
Lowly we think of our very own existence
Perhaps this is why we give in to the coldness of the ones
Who never take a step to acknowledge our presence.
We treasure people and the relations we have with them
But rarely do we think about the equation we share with ourselves.
Is it balanced and proportionate?
A question that seldom strikes our mind and makes enough sense.
And finally, when we are saturated
When no more of disillusions plague our head
We seek a cure for our tattered heart
That could bring together our broken parts.
Self-love, my darling, is the wand you need
To heal the bruises and your Achilles heel.
To love oneself seems a pretty selfish thought
But this very act of yours can set you free
From the maze in which you are caught.
To uplift yourself and obtain liberty from the cage
In which you are held captive enhancing your rage,
Love is all you need in abundance
Not of others but the one which you feed your soul with forbearance.