Let me plant flowers of your scars

Mihar Diaries . . .

In the labyrinth of sorrow’s maze,
Where shadows linger, lost in a daze,
Let me be the one to tread,
Through the echoes of the tears you’ve shed.

With hands that echo the whispers of years,
I’ll trace the contours of unspoken fears,
Let me wipe your tears, let them stream,
A river of emotions, like a haunting dream.

In the silence where your heart recoils,
I’ll offer solace in the language of toils,
Let my soul be the cloth that softly dares,
To gather your pain, a burden it shares.

As scars adorn your canvas of skin,
Each mark a tale of battles within,
Let me plant flowers, delicate and rare,
In the wounded soil, a garden to bear.

I’ll cultivate blossoms, deep and profound,
Where echoes of healing softly resound,
Let the petals whisper tales untold,
In the language of love, so pure and bold.

Through the tapestry of your darkest night,
I’ll be the stars, a guiding light,
Let my essence intertwine with your soul,
As we navigate depths, making broken hearts whole.

In the symphony of your silent cries,
I’ll compose a lullaby, where emotion lies,
Let me be the melody that softly charts,
A serenade for your scars, a balm for your heart.

With every note, a promise to stay,
Through the ebb and flow of the emotional fray,
Let the depth of my love be the ocean’s roll,
As I wipe your tears with the essence of my soul.