A nerve of pain throbbed in a poet’s heart

The emotional turmoil within threw him apart

The tears came out of his eyes and fell on a rose

It reminded him of his wrong decision and the path he chose

He locked himself in his dark dingy room

Kept brooding over the bitter thoughts in gloom

The piercing pain was wrenching and biting

And he sobbed with each word that was meant to be comforting

Now the tears have dried and the world has a new tune to sing

A beautiful song, which is the poet’s own addictive erring

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