Phases

Photo by Marcus Dall Col on Unsplash

When a phase of joy sways us in relief
No worries, no contingency plan we heed
Aren’t we supposed to live in present?
Present over in a blink and made piled past
Ashes of regret last residues in untoiled breathes.

Adulthood begins with rough times
No Ease to hold it with earlier tasted sugar
Neem must be chewed, not just sweets
Lasting aches break ego in some
Others bury ego for flourishing times to stir.

Years of metamorphism alter human nature
Few rocky beings could bear trauma’s heat
Some flowers never bloom after accident
Misery is entrenched on livings’ skin and nerves.

No mantra one has nor I could seek
I strive and lost hope every two-three earth days
Just walk, stumble in times critical
No stopping, eyes on ground but my heart longs
Don’t know what’s it?
Maybe on the next sunrise, I’ll start fresh.