A pilgrimage !

Wounds were not in my body
But in my heart
A million times, I was cut inside
Bleed up black and white

In each game of hate and love
I got tired and broken into pieces
Injured and fuzz repeatedly
Being bruised inside
My flooded pains
Were moved silently
With chocked voice of sacrifice

Time rolled on with seasonal gaze
Like sanctified breeze of grassy land
To construe my love
With its caressing unseen fingers
Lit my heart in delight
Glow it with golden bright

In my heart today
Million chords ring
In a classical way
Withering pains of yesteryear

Wounds are now blooming like flowers
Kissing my thoughts of silky towers
Smiling like sunshine
To groom my heart of million cuts
With velvet dusts of benign springs
To weave me with all hearty strings
Love for me now is a pilgrimage
BY SATYA PATTNAIK