You mimic motions of joy, yet
I see you paralyzed by your pains.
You desperately try to silence your
tears yet I hear the erratic beating
of a heart hurled in agony.
Your inner chaos convicts and confines
you to your room-turned-cave;
you behave in accordance to your master –
the disasters scattered among the chamber
of your soul. For you, they have created a pit, a hole
in which you crawl into, never to feel the sensation
of sunlight; so I ask you, tonight, to take my hand
Follow me under the starry night to a place where
weepers are welcomed and shortcomings are celebrated -
where fires are set to faults, where perfection is overrated.
Tell the musicians your story and watch the glory they bring.
Let them play your pains for us to dance, hold hands, and sing.
We will laugh and hum while guitars strum your sorrows.
Unearth and unbind your buried burdens
so that the music may set them ablaze
and may the flames be guiding stars for
those blinded by similar ills.
No longer will you be drowned by your own tears.
Let them spill and replenish the desert-hearted; for
they may be the saving grace for the otherwise departed.
Traverse the uncharted wearing your pains like badges of honor
and embrace the salutes of those stunned to see one
who’s claimed victory over their own demons.
Know that through all seasons, help is only a hug away.
Know that a day is only a day no matter how it ends.
And know that during your darkest hours only those daring
enough to remain with you until dawn shall be called your friends.
May your miseries be a compass for lost souls.
Withhold not a parable of your pains;
offer the world your scars
and watch how much it gains.
(Dedicated to all silent sufferers)