Little has been told of late,
About the lonely man, living in that lonely estate,
Interesting was his story as I found out one day,
I jotted down everything he had to say.
There was a time his house was lively and full of bliss,
Playful voices in the background and loving wife's kiss,
But who can tell what Fate has in store for you,
His story is of great pain and suffering entrusted to only few,
And through it all Time played it's role,
And through it all he awaited unknowingly for Time to make him whole.
He was out with his two blossoming sons that fateful day,
When his sons died while he survived the car accident they say,
And home was not home anymore,
Time passed by as the two survived in a family of four.
And soon the wife could take it no more,
Left his husband and went away somewhere in quest of peace, her heart still sore,
He was broken and the grief could not be measured,
His wife left him all alone, the wife whom he treasured,
As with teary eyes he completed the tale and bid me to go,
I understood he only wanted things from Time but he should have known that we only reap what we sow.
I wanted to tell him his flaws but didn't want to break his delusional solace,
That Time will heal him as Time is lawless,
But I must tell the actual virtues of Time lest you too think the same,
Because illusions like the old man's are nothing but lame.
Time doesn't heal you, the wounds remain fresh,
Hidden under layers of new memories formed upon the wounds in mind and flesh,
Time never heals you unless your memories fail with age,
Time only helps you if you learn to move on and step out of your cage,
For through it all Time gives you reasons to form new memories and learn from the past,
For through it all Time teaches you to wear your scars with pride of the fighters who fought till the last.