The Scent Of Shattered Truths

The clown, who entertains us,	Their wounds still drip with blood.
chose to laugh even as its life was crashing down.	Their eyes?
The quiet kid, who never spoke—why?	An ocean of unseen tears.
The sun, never loved, yet still chose to rise for us.	Their heart?
Fear, meant to scare, still chose to befriend them.	Beating under the scent of shattered truths.
Ever wondered why?
Why do they sacrifice, even while living the life	Their mind?
of an outcast?	Fighting dead thoughts,
But who is the outcast really?	Their mouth?
The clown? The sun? The fear?	Filled with untold words,
Aren’t they the ones who put their happiness	willing to speak
aside for us?	yet chained in the storm
The quiet kid why name them that?	of betrayals.
Aren’t they the one who holds all your secrets,
but chooses silence instead?	Then, there they saw a glimmer of hope
They love darkness but why?	Like a lighthouse standing
Is it because they want to hide their art?	amidst the restless sea.
The art of staying silent?	It never interrupted the storm
What sin did they commit for	it, simply stood there
choosing to sacrifice?	casting its light to guide the lost.
Did they choose to live or merely survive?	Even when the waves grew fierce,
Live and survive… aren’t they the same?	even when the sky was
No.	swallowed by storms,
Because if they had chosen to live,	it remained.
they wouldn’t have let their true voice fade.	Sometimes its light flickered,
Yes	sometimes it grew dim,
they are surviving.	yet it never abandoned those
Surviving to live.	searching for their way.
It’s all a myth	The storm never truly left,
they are not dead,	but neither did the light.
but they are not alive either.	And so, they no longer
They are unalive.	survived merely to live
Not buried under dirt like the dead,	they slowly learned to live,
but breathing	even while surviving.
while their heart lies buried in guilt.
All of them are unalive.

Ayina Noorani