Catharsis

How does it feel, the pain?
Like a shiny sword slashing through
the thumping frightened heart.
Like red-hot coals blistering
on the bleeding throbbing wound.
Like the tender cells squashing
under the random swarming stampede.
Like the breaking bones,
ruptured vessels,
punctured muscles,
guillotined head,
fissured nerves,
and impaired senses.
Or perhaps, like a cataclysm,
where the self is lost in war,

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How does it heal, the pain?
In fervent salvage verses,
in lyrical melodious melancholy,
in delight delicious delicacies,
in elegant glorious portrayals,
in brilliant frivolous talkies,
in flight of endless travels,
in chat, cry, sulk, and anger
Or perhaps, in love for
self-liberating catharsis.