Lamentations: An Exercise in Mourning

Wring your heart out – howl if you have to,
Unbroken, unhidden lamenting;
You falter, feet shuffling, angst unmasked.

When they tell you it does not make sense,
Recognize staggering apathy,
Clothe yourself, in sorrows; pain embrace.

Taste your own tears with no shame or guilt:
Remember, tomorrow promises
Your healing, in places, YOU allowed.
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Anne Adarsh

Anne Adarsh is a radiologist by profession but finds herself repeatedly returning to her first love in all things. Poetry. A self-confessed Recluse also blessed (or cursed perhaps!), with an insatiable curiosity to learn new things, writing to her, means a landscape in her mind's eye, to which she can always escape to, whenever life closes in on her.