I have a broken-hearted friend
with a wound
as deep as universe
wherein he resides.
He gloats facts all the time:
Universe, he says, is 95 percent darkness.
Every galaxy has its own black hole.
He goes on in the similar way
about Plants, Animals and everything in nature,
except Humans. He has no insights there.
Blinded by people. Hurt he is,
wounded, betrayed and broken.
He sees no 5 percent light there
neither any galaxies.
He's addicted to those videos wherein
old, antique broken things are repaired, restored.
And I understand why:
The videos are a metaphor for a condition
unattainable.
For years
the poetic interpretation contented me
until yesterday when
I asked him the reason:
"Lucky bastards dig up an antique treasure every other day".
