Broken Pieces

So damaged they all are, bereft of love.
One sought for the concept,
One yearned for mindless sex
And one for the ultimate experience.
So different, yet connected with one term lust.

Love was then, when emotions were strong,
They swam in its pristine waters with hope
But love, that's such an illusion.
Emotions got enmeshed in agonizing pain.
They tried to survive, in different forms.

One persisted in music, drowning his pain in alcohol
No one could know, it was his pain that echoed.
So rich was his voice in suffering.

The other plunged into darkness.
Desiring only flesh to blind his senses.
Nothing more, nothing less.
For he had nothing more left.

The last survives in frames,
Capturing beauty through his lens,
Choosing indifference to other's feelings.
For he was still a child at heart, didn't wish to probe much.

So broken are these three
Journeying their life with broken pieces.

I relate,
As I am creatively damaged like them.