Tryst With Redemption

There are wrong doings beyond murders and larceny,

Beyond assaults and infidelity,

I don’t know what to name it

But the complexity of it has consumed me,

Wounded many parts of me

But evolved the whole of me.

I reiterated my love, but felt hollow,

I knew I meant it whenever I said it

But never did anything to make myself believe it.

My untamed darkness was at war with me,

And I let it win,

While my defeat cried me to sleep.

The wound was invisible,

But the pain, physical.

Bottled this too within me,

And this time, my thoughts were at war with me.

It’s been a journey since then,

And if redemption is disguised as guilt and epiphanies,

I have had my tryst with it,

Making me a firm believer

Of time being the best healer.