Among Today’s Sorrows, This Is the Worst of All

Among today’s sorrows, this is the worst of all—
as though the gentle currents of the mind
have been shattered into trembling fragments,
as if I have slipped into a deep cavern of silence
filled with shadows, dampness,
and endless echoes that
surround me like a celebration of pain.

The slender thread of hope
that once reached toward the light of tomorrow
now loosens in the slightest wind,
and a voice within me quietly asks:
“Why do you still carry all this?”

Yet I do not let go,
for even if this darkness
wipes away all the light from my eyes,
my heart, like an enduring thread,
continues to weave new tears
with unbroken persistence.

Across the wounds
engraved upon my heart,
yesterday’s memories fall like rain;
each drop seeps inward,
refusing to dry,
and silently questions—
“How long must the pain you bear
continue its journey?”

On this road where emotions falter,
a small pride trembles within my veins—
an urge to restrain the rising tears;
but pride hides its own cruel truth—
the breaking point
always breaks in silence.

Among today’s sorrows, this is the worst—
for without uttering a single word,
it leads me to the graveyard of memories,
digging out the past
like a long-buried treasure,
placing it in my hands,
and compelling me to weep again.

Yet within this sorrow
lies a concealed meaning—
a muted hope, like seafoam
emerging from the depths;
it whispers:
“This darkness is not something
that has swallowed you;
it is something you carry.”

Even as my heart shivers,
a faint light burns
within my fractured world;
it tells me—
“Tomorrow has yet to be born,
and for that birth,
you too must rise once more.”

Among today’s sorrows, this is the worst—
and yet, it teaches me that strength
does not roar or announce itself;
it rises quietly
from frozen tears
that melt into
a new rain of hope.

 Eelaththu Nilavan

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