The fume swirls, and her heart burns
Like joss stick, but for words of empathy, she always yearns
Pain and agony sometimes destabilize the mind, but she always gets ready,
To get lost in the labyrinth of a daily grind.
Though living in the plethora, still sometimes agony rules
When the clouds of their harsh words fall
The irony of life swirls and twirls
As those words are like thorns, sharp stabbing pains.
She swallows bitter-pills though harsh words break her fragile heart,
Still, in its abyss, she keeps the button of a restart
Every day, she wipes her tears in dismay
But make pools of hope and bright rays.
Every day on the wings of twilight,
She slowly slides and creeps the night.
Admires the journey, whatever it is from dusk to dawn
And then with a promise, She rises to a beautiful morn.
Image Credit: Pixabay