Here’s a poem about life. Aishwarya travels within and without, in this verse, in Different Truths.
Strange is life, stranger is its ways,
filled as much with mystery as much as a thrill,
when the shores are silent, the waves leave the bay,
like moments that seem as much alive as much as still.
The sun comes up, it’s time to face the day,
and I think that life shall today be all right-
and as the day wears on I don’t let my nerves fray,
to the hollowness that creeps within me every night.
Having reached crossroads at life, I’m feeling weary,
after the toils of sweat that over years I have shed,
and I’m feeling like the skies too are cloudy and dreary,
like the emptiness within and the heart that has bled.
I have to erase the memories of how it began
sift away the emotions from reality –
I wipe the mirror, dust on my hands,
the shadow clears a new personality.
The wind blows a puff of scented fresh air,
I try to be tranquil, as much I can be,
it lifts my spirits up, out of that dreaded despair,
sensing freedom above, I steer my life free.
I look to the sky, a cloudless sway,
put a conch to my ear, a silent sea,
strange is life, stranger is its ways…
an empty path ahead that connects to me.
Photos from the Internet
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