Poem 8 : Harsh Reality
Harsh Reality
- T ABRAHAM
Everyday or somedays,
Once in a week, or in a month,
Thunderstorms with swirling winds come,
Oh ! Why is it always this way ?
I weep, I cry seeing this season,
I groan, I mourn, I complain looking forward,
It seems I would get tossed,
Dilemma, fear, fever, fret, weariness, hopelessness,
Surrounds me like an island in the ocean,
With no visible boat to sail home,
With a sea that has sharks.
But suddenly the angels come,
To rescue, to carry me over all these feelings,
The toils and the anxious feelings goes out,
Like how Christ drove out the unclean spirit from the man,
Who was chained and bruised,
The harsh reality goes away,
Everything passes away,
Be it pleasant like spring,
Or harsh as the thunderstorm,
So adieu harsh reality,
There I go away from you.
To see the season of spring,
A boat to sail home,
To leave you and be happy forever.
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