The atrocious contradiction of existence

The atrocious contradiction of existence

How ironically does existence glare at our agony

Drawing its muse in the hours of our ecstasy

Beauty galloping in its stance painfully aloud,

The whisper of the mighty sense of self loses its way in the crowd.

Humans ought to be the resilient minds,

A quest for their identity, a rarity to seek to find,

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Life in its rhythmic flair plunges us into the dark sands of dee,

To be lost in the land of nothingness is to master the spirit of thee.

Wanderlust in its yonder encapsulates the allure of the free,

Silence in its whispers creeps in the desolation nobody can see.

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Trudging our way on the path unknown,

We are all wandering to comfort ourselves with a place called home

The darkness mellows to the tender embrace of the light,

As its radiance heals its spirit in the hours of its plight.

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When hours of atrocity knock at your door,

I hope you recall yourself,

Of the light that shines from your core.

To the stars who listen and the dreams into being they breathe

I hope the pain that haunts you heals into the bliss of the divine that leads.

_Hridya