Vague figures come to form
Under the tint of the moonlight.
Some slanting, some circling
Some bending, some trodden.
Squinting, the eyes pore
At the stream of the faint light
The eyes stared with aghast
The figures are just shadow
There’s no tale, there’s no life.
The flower that blooms The scent that lingers The beacon of light The ray of hope.
The well of love The wall of strength The trove of kindness The fountain of joy. The spring of life The cradle of growth The epitome of bravery The essence of existence.
Happy International Women’s Day everyone!
How strong can a person be?
In the midst of oddity
In cruelty and betrayal
In the world where truth
Is hidden, evaded incessantly.
How strong can a person be?
Alone in darkness
Muted in silence
Muddled with hypocrisy
Drowned in temerity.
How strong can a person be?
When water flows freely
Gushing in deaden face
Gasping for breath, yelling
Where is peace, equality?
How strong can a person be?
Where only hope relies in Thee
At blinking stars and shiny moon
To majestic rays seeping at dawn
And to flowers that bloom.
How strong can a person be?
When folded knees shake
And clasped hands moistened
With stiffened muscles
Heavy feet lift not a single step.
How strong can a person be?
An unanswered question
Like a myth, truth is unknown.
How strong can a person be?
Relatively personal, nobody can just see.
