Rich Pain Of The Moment

 

The smile is not a joy all day;

It takes pleasure in crying sometimes.

The night is not full of stars all day;

It becomes a dark page sometimes.

The air is not pure all day;

It shows the magic of turning vicious sometimes.

My mind is not a platform of creativity all day;

It loses its form sometimes.

And when it happens,

All the points which were visible like a map yesterday

Turns to just dots today,

Where I loose myself in this bitter taste of life.

Everything around me seems just a bunch of lifeless objects in my eyes,

And In that moment,

My eyes don't work.

My heart works;

It bears the agony of a rich pain of the moment.