After your abrupt departure,
When the uncontrollable pain of my interior,
Compels me to expose its disorder,
Reluctantly, I knock your door.
My heart takes me to your door,
Even against the counsel of my conscience,
As it does not know to expose,
Near anyone other than you.
A guilty feeling creeps into my mind,
As I do so against my conscience,
As it is against the idealistic norms,
With which I lived all my life.
I realize, as long as I am here,
I can't control my core,
And disobey its orders,
Of reaching your door.
Death is no more painful,
Than to live against one’s own ideology,
Than to live with a guilty feeling,
Than to live inhuman.
Hence, it is better;
I should leave the earth,
With my head high,
Leaving you to live at peace.
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