By Krishnan Sivasubramoney
In quiet rooms where minds unfold,
A thousand stories left untold,
I sit and listen, heart in hand,
To guide them through a shifting land.
A mirror to their hidden fears,
A vessel for their silent tears,
With every word, I sift the pain,
Untangling knots of loss and strain.
The darkness calls, but so does light;
In fragile souls, I glimpse the fight
For peace, for hope, for something real,
Amid the wounds they strive to heal.
Through whispered doubts and anxious cries,
I search for truths behind their eyes
A puzzle, layered, deep, and vast,
Each session builds, and time moves fast.
But nights are heavy; thoughts still cling
To all the tales the day might bring.
I carry burdens not my own,
Yet find a solace once unknown.
For in each breakthrough, small and bright,
I witness courage, fragile light
The spark that helps them rise once more,
And meet the world beyond my door.
So here I stand, a steady guide,
With empathy my greatest pride
A psychiatrist, through joy and strife,
Navigating the maze of life.