Let me tell you about the artist and the musician. Both had their hearts ripped out by their beloved’s treacherous kiss.

Driven underground to hide away from the bee-sting of a 100,000 eyes, the artist threw her paint brush away the moment her muse turned his back on her. The musician met the same fate almost a decade ago and he can only offer solace through his own sad song.

And I, I am the one who watches from a distance beneath the stormy sky for I relate the story of Jahanam to an audience in cyberspace. I can only paint the picture with a pen; this is a snapshot of when true friendship is tested.

Good time friends are aplenty but the one who stays by our side during the darkest hours of our lives, they are the physician to the broken soul.

Sometimes, there is no need to offer solutions; there is no need for answers; there is no need for intellectual analysis. Just being there in silence is comfort to one who wishes not to speak.

3 of Cups

The beast was here all along…

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Diary of a Broken Soul
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Poetry for The Diary and Diary of a Broken Soul Blog by Ash Abdullah