Empty Chamber of Emotions

There’s now an empty room in my home,

All sense and awareness have been removed from there.

A shroud of mourning has been laid down,

In that room, only books remain,

Wisdom has been taken away from its corners.

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Everyone seeks the recipe for love,

But tell me, who has the cure for pain?

Burn the letters I’ve written,

For I cannot comprehend the weight of sympathy.

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What you endured, make it known to the world,

But what I went through, it’s no story worth telling.

Even in separation, loyalty demands something—

The flaws remain veiled; they’re not laid bare.

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A friend whose home has no mother,

And I, who was absent from my home at night.

Why long for something already within reach?

Why desire what isn’t even a choice?