You Weren't Touched

Poem By Ayni Poet

Hiding under warm, soothing blankets,
One has retracted from a false battlefield
Thinking there was something to gain or clasp,
Grieving now a loss.

In bloody stains he seems to be covered,
The heavy clothes need to be shredded,
Those thoughts of brokenness and nullity
Are leading one astray.

Healing is just a metaphor for reflection,
Only when a face is worn
Tales of suffering can be told.

Essence cannot be cut, punctured,
Hurt or dimmed,
One's Self is forever untouched,
Unpolluted,
Has never met the harm.

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