Wounds heal Wounds

How ironic that your wounds heal mine?
Brighten my world where the sun stops to shine
The ugliness of your past beautifies my 'now'
The pains of your heart cure my wounded vow.

How ironic that my wounds heal yours?
My tears wiped away your incurable sores
Closed doors of my hopes open the window
Of your blinded eyes, of your wounded soul.

How ironic that their wounds heals ours?
Stories of despair forget the lonely hours
Deafening silence and silent cries are heard
Once again we relive the freedom of a bird.

Wounds heal wounds, how ironic yet not!
Coz that's the work of a sympathetic heart
In a world of aches and deep scars
We can mend the broken and dead stars.