I stand before a wash-basin
I'm crying for the life I've been chasing
The cries of the flesh are not heard
A desire is but a living bird
The cries from the soul are not whole,
A piece from the truth that I stole
Pain arises and you paint the sky blue
Wash your face with tear-drops,
And divide the world in two
Your heart leaves you behind,
And you're alone in your mind
Your whole world is breaking down,
And there's no sense in what your heart wants to pursue
Surely nothing to find out about what's true and not true
You wash your hands off blood in a wash-basin;
And in-front of the mirror you see yourself
Your whole life has been written off,
And kept in some book in some book shelf
And drained of blood you ask for help,
And misery comes to your rescue
You can't turn back or run away,
In the end - you have to be you
Ankita Sharma
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/washing-sorrow/
