Surviving a storm is easy,
Storms forge not a filler of conceits
It is natural, it’s roar artless,
Yet like a child….
From the woods wild
Predominately, the take-off lifts
a tempest from its heart,
From the mountain’s top
As quiet as it can be the surrender
Somewhere deep, a final salute
To close the eyes in meditation,
A peace pact is born.
Surviving a storm of a fake heart
Vehemently not easy at all
It is an endless charade,
To encapsulate the innocent ones
To trap to entrap a feeling
To smudge, to smear
And at the end step on a pillar
Of fate and stumble.
Surviving a storm like the one
Of its kind on a mountain top.
Survivors adorn a nature,
A treasure hive
Garlanded by seasons
Heralded by horizons.