I wrote this poem when my younger brother died due to clinical depression. He was in love with a woman who left him for another. He never recovered from this betrayal. On his last days, he stopped eating and drinking. He …
… I would ascertain keenly
the trace of unseen madness
In the fold of his immobile face
In his eyes that showed only emptiness!
… I wanted to open all doors
So the wind blow through his hair.
I would fake that sky was blue!
In and out, everywhere, I stare!
… Then I laughed at my own vision.
I could stop it, if I had only known
That there was a coast laid behind the doors
And there were many who felt very alone.
… Everything white and you were pale.
You were dressed in white, standing in dark.
And avidly should I see
Your slender, transparent…
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