Hurt Poem by lalitha iyer

Wounded moon
it veils half
her silvery looks
scarred by black sorrows

little by little
the night air kettles
some glow worms to her right
and smoothens her meloncholic bright.

the bud of beauty burst open
her red eyes full of grief
her golden bee had flown past
as she slept in the dreamy casts

life is hurt bleeds the thorn
rose is hurt blurts the morn
sea shells hurt bursts open
me sit by the shore moaning undone.