Fester

By Divya Ezhilarasu

It's never pretty when we stand

on different sides every time.

Each, trying to make the other

understand, simply listen.

The ego clash lasts too long,

and the wounds fester.

When all is said and done

nothing remains to salvage.

What we once had is destroyed

by our own hands, the fester rots.

Decayed and dead, at that moment

We want to hurt each other.

We did, and no side won.

What remains are gaping wounds.

Once it festers, everything ends.

It is now an ocean of tears.

By Divya Ezhilarasu