A Kind of Grief

There’s a kind of grief that no one speaks of,
The opposite of madness,
Tangled in loss,
Twisted patterns that churn,
Burn, tattoos upon my skin,

A kind of sadness eclipsed by tears,
That fall from the sun,
As I remember,
All my friends that are dead and gone,

Passions once so full of valour,
Colours bursting on full display,
We’d dance all night to the music,
Hold hands and sway,

Half-spirited romantics,
Caught in the madness,
That only youth can offer,
When I walk in empty rooms,
I recall all those faces,
My heart continues to suffer,

I can hear them now,
Each and every word that was sung,
There are echoes in the silence,
Now that my friends are gone,

Hollow faces at the windows,
Broken shadows on the floor,
Now that my friends are no more,
There’s a kind of grief that no one speaks of,
The opposite of madness,
Tangled in love,

Something that I cannot contain,
For it remains deep inside of me,
It’s an ache that I long to set free.

By Sarfraz Ahmed © Copyright 2020