Life is a blessing when it is real
When not surrounded by pretenders
Heart ignites a chaste ray of hope
In solitude where axioms of subtle truth illumine
Clearing the last flecks of entrapped feelings
Prayers unstain the pain caused by strange outer clusters
Masquerade of the shadows fade
Smile, love, kindness mere words
When used for gains,
Which causes permanent scars..
Life at times pulls back from the unreal,
From the unkind facades
Not to break but to save the conscience
From tearing apart
Heart is not a coded machine
To filter real from the unreal
For a while the commotion hurts
Untruth chains the heartbeats of a verse
Painful yet it is the first alphabet
Of a child to stand up from the fallen soil
To liberate, to breath in peace
Even when it takes a lot more struggle
To separate the pure soul
From a pretentious assemblage
It is essential..
Being alone is strength at times
It’s indeed a blessing
To know the gospels of truth
To be real in life..
Rema Pisharody