When in pain

Those cynical stories on strings of time,
Pricking on skin like sand so fine.
Those distant moments and yet so mine,
with broken spirits and loneliness shrine.

When all that is worked for is down the drain,
all that is left is the heart wrenching pain.
Heart in a vice and world watching in disdain.
And agents of chaos turns you insane.

Find my shoulder for you to recline,
I will lend you my ears for you to whine.
Bring the colors for the dreams you design,
and a sit at my table for you to dine.

We will make another journey to ascertain,
Make some sword with those iron of pain.
Not to find those lost moments again,
but to find pleasure and forget the pain.

Dhrubjyoti