Story of a pearl

Like an eye, an innocent organ

Under the packing of a hard bone shell

The mollusk stayed in water; naively

Until a day, a trouble rose unexpectedly

A piece of sand, went straight to its eye

Hurt, under common reflex, the shell closed in protection

But the mollusk has no arms, no limbs; nothing

To help in the removal of that impurity

With only its tears, rolling the taints

Until the sharp object becomes eased to live with

A pearl; previously a subject of distress

The world hordes after this marvel

But the shell knows the pain it went through

Call it my inspiration; call it the pain that is the seed

Which will grow into a splendid tree

Every seeds need to die, else it will not grow

A strange rule of nature, where death brings a rebirth

Trauma is the cause of what inspires the artist

The pearl you see, the beauty in our talent

Is actually the pain we have been used to live with;

The “It” factor, most commonly known as

Something which made us different in this world,

Valuable it may be but yet unbearable sometimes

For it brings back unpleasant torments and experiences 

Another irony of our life; just like the eviction of the pearl

Would move the mollusk to a normal life

Similarly, with the cure of my pain

I would be substituted to a life as normal and common

As I used to be leading before