My Amateur Rhymes

The flickering dust. The flying swans. The setting dusk. An unsettling frown. A seeping drop, The decaying crop. Life's extremities, death's calamities. The poor, the rich. The sane and the sick. Emotions see a bane, and practicality grasps quick The saints persist, the lesser give-up in a wink. The earthly whimpers and Godly strives Humans plunder, tinker and the lords' thrive. The beliefs, the grief The struggles, and the forsaken reef. Human, it is, To wrong and to correct. To fall and to resurrect. We, is a word. I, just a letter. Lone soul in this world. No time to whimper. Befallen by the brethren, Brushed aside by life's tram. Horrendous moments, dramatic twists, But waiting for the ascent of tryst. No smooth ending, we vie for. Just seek the beauty of an abruptness, no matter how sour.

A windy dusk and a night with showers of rain. A lease from Lords to relieve you of all your pains. Get-out, relive this moment. although in his hands, thou art a mere puppet. Life's full of atrocities. like a dense forest, deprived of the sun's novelties. but don't shy away from life. Don't give up when your emotions are on the edge of a knife. Sad art thou, I know, And now is the moment when seeds of happiness thou shall sow. Enjoy the droplets, and dream on thy bed. Thy eyes, shouldn't be wet. Thy dreams, in the oblivion, shouldn't fade.