Days appear and they go by,
Nights appear and they go by.
I remain the very me,
Thyself the very thee.
But,, she never awaits a beckon,
Life is whatever you reckon.
Toil and work be the only aim,
Build no conspiracies, design wise plans to tame.
Kneeling we go to the last ditch,
Wayfaring to find the way.
It's not a help- the moonlight night,
To find the way, walk through the hay.
Hay’s a mirage, courage mends it,
Whilst it pretends, faith re-invents it.
Life demands nothing, but justice purely,
It doesn’t manifest to be hard, for it acts surely.
Starts with a cry,
Ends within a coffin.
Lambent the life is, even in that din.
The din’s a reapproaching call,
To rise, fall and crawl,
To choose to fall to stall.
The beauty she dons flatters,
But, the devotion she needs matters.
Life is not that we’re born with,
But, the one we cease with.
For I’d shown love for this alluring curse,
My efforts to climb have all been hers.
Up the summit, are successes to embrace,
Each step beings new challenges to face.
Never did I rest, nor loitered,
A sand walk life was, I never heard.
A step ahead, a step forth; another step I took on,
From a desolate dusk to the bright dawn.
She’s not mine or thine,
Life means to be kept away from a define.
Until the rise of that mighty Sun,
When I will define life and do her stun.