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When my impassioned senses are roused to turbulence, I weep, I cry, I sob out aloud.
When solitude beckons on the wings of exhaustion
I surrender, I concede, I give in
For I know that serenity awaits, arms outstretched
I sink into it, I let it envelop me.
When quietude clamors for attention amid the din
I listen, I heed, I agree to rest
For I know my weary soul needs some succor so
I acquiesce, I let it shroud me.
When perturbation threatens to engulf my equanimity
I delve, I introspect, I meditate
For I know that I myself hold the answers to sagacity
I think, and I evaluate things.
When my impassioned senses are roused to turbulence
I weep, I cry, I sob out aloud
For I know I need to purge, embrace this catharsis so
I wail, and I rant at the world.
When thus spent, I gather myself like a bundle of sticks
I shed my fears, I dry my tears
For I know my desolate heart needs to bleed some to
Heal again; feel again, bit by bit.
Image via Pixabay
Sonal is a multiple award winning blogger and writer and the founder of a women-centric manpower search firm - www.rianplacements.com. Her first book, a volume of poetry - Islands in the stream - is slated read more...
This post has published with none or minimal editorial intervention. Women's Web is an open platform that publishes a diversity of views, individual posts do not necessarily represent the platform's views and opinions at all times.
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