Mountains bear their own loneliness with might
Clouds bear their own individuality with stoicism
Flowers do their best to enjoy their existence,
Even if that shall last only a while!
And we, humans, make ourselves believe
That we have faith in our stand on Earth!
Why, is Earth herself not in lamentation
Chained to a fate she can't fight
Enslaved to an existence she can't change
Confined to being
To allow us all to thrive
While making us well aware
That we thrive merely to perish!
Pray, what is this reality?
Pray, is it unnatural for us to find no anchorage here?
Or is it normal,
Being after all, entities originating from mysteriousness
Entities having no recollection whatsoever of our maker
Entities being tested throughout the whole of our existence
To be deemed as being worthy or not
Of being offered
More graciousness in worlds our minds can perceive not!
Why, I, for one, can't be like the mountains,
I , for one, can't be like the clouds
I, for one, can't be like the flowers,
I, rather, remain a probing soul
With one foot on Earth and the other high up in the Universe
Yes, of what use is trying to accept an existence which is bound to Death
Of what use is it, if not, living it void
For, our essence is meant not to fit in here
Our essence emanates from some other power
And we shall be relieved only when we shall be back there!
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