Catharsis

Words arose from the depth of my heart,

Gurgling up in the turmoil of sorrow,

They boiled up in rage and were on the verge,

Of being spewed out,

When they realised that the mouth was muffled,

By a stronger opinion, a louder voice. 

The words, finding no vent,

With hopes intact and feelings none the worse for it,

Travelled backwards and upwards,

To reach a benevolent hospice,

From where they did not leap

Up into space for once, from a precipice,

But rolled down a gentle, soft slope,

To finally reach the bosom, 

where they once emanated from.

What the words went through,

Was nothing short of a miracle,

From space to matter in form,

From defense to surrender in intent.

Came up with hope,

Went down in despair. 

Leaving the heart to sit and mope,

While gasping for some fresh air. 

Bravo, the heart hath finally learnt to cope,

And bear, heal and repair.

Sorrow, au revoir!