Volcano

Beneath my eyes, straight to the tunnel

That leads to the core of my body

My heart is filled with grief, Magmatising,

Threatening an eruption dued, any moment

Abruptly a cataclysm is unclenched, all the lavas

Pave their way, on my cheeks

My lids attempt to shield my eyes

But the heat of the pain renders it futile

The damage is ecological, everything around is intact

But if seen thoroughly, one would be astounded

After seeing the tissues of my blood pumping organ

Under the influence of tremendous heat and fire

Indeed my body is strong; it did not burst out

Had it been made of glass, pieces would have hurled out

Hurled out to the corners of the world

Hurled out, propelled from the dynamics of sorrow

Indeed there is a bomb far more powerful

That lays hidden for a reason in secrecy

Imagine if it were outside of my body

An entire city would have been engulfed

The damage is usually silent but in case it howls out

The voice diffused would be interpreted by an expert

As immeasurable, if not, unlocatable under current units

To decide upon the magnitude of my agony

The aftermath of this sudden eruption would mark

Perhaps the start of an age of depression or anxiety

In case I will show up stronger, hardly in case

I will be someone similar, but with a changed perception