Some Still Care

Sometimes unfulfilled expectations,

Create nasty wounds,

Some are healed,

But others require a heavenly touch,

A touch that heals the deepest bruises,

A touch that caresses the scars of the worst tortures,

Of Betrayal, treachery and so many evil arrows,

That pierce the heart of innocence and genuinity.

That trample those dreams seen every night,

Those fantasies that could have been real,

Those beautiful lies that sheltered someone.

All such sacrifices went unrecognised,

A place full of fictionally blind devils,

Dwelling in most angelic faces,

Somehow the world was already familiar,

Even before it unfolded.

Just like dew dancing on the bottom of delicate branches,

Life seemed a game,

Playing with millions,

An ongoing struggle,

Several sleepless nights were born,

A bud that was dreaming to grow,

Had no one to water on.

Hopes of being coaxed and cajoled,

We're far-fetched destinations,

Which had almost passengerless trains,

They all enquired, "Why to head on a selfless travel?"

But it was strange,

As the bud had unique confidence,

It still aspired to bloom,

It was yearning for survival,

In front of deaf passers.

Until one day,

A three-year-old came running,

With tiny waterlogged palms,

And filled the deep drought-cuts,

And somehow rekindled a ray of sunshine,

Even in this dark place.