Story of a Wounded Heart

Story of a Wounded Heart

______By Aranna Hasan Delwar

Without entering the chambers of my heart, you could understand how I was feeling.

A fire erupted in my inner world, burning the carefully cultivated garden of love.

In spring, no flowers bloom, no flocks of birds arrive,

And nature does not resonate with melodies.

You easily said, "I am fine."

Yes, I am fine,

Burning in the heat of loneliness, carrying a hidden fire in my heart,

I am fine, I live fine.

Whether I am fine or not doesn't matter to you;

You seem to be perfectly fine.

I heard you found a new audience for your poetry.

You don't publish your newly born poems without letting them listen to your new audience.

Where was all this love, poet?

Your love never blossomed into flowers for me.

Or was I not worthy of your love?

On the paths of my wounded heart,

Your marks are still visible,

The scent of your presence still lingers in the air,

My heart still feels your absence,

Weaving a cloak of hope with threads of waiting.

I know it's all a lie, and our paths will never cross again.