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Poem

Rising to the dawn,
Grateful for the present.
Glowing yellow, the sky,
Rejoices in its joys- reservedly blent.

Sitting by the beach, past noon,
Soothing tranquility in the air.
The Abode, one with horizon, azure,
At peace it be, when within are all monsters' lair?

Standing in the rain,
Drenched in all despair.
All up above is gloomy grey,
Its sorrows it weeps, agony in its share!

Through those tears, a smile,
Kindled a fire, its warmth- hope.
Even the curve of seven colours,
Bottling bygones, spurious smile- trope!

At the sky up above, I look, I say,
"Whom has it done justice? Credence, dark dolours!
Everything you were, I was! Your beguiling visage- varient.
And yet there I am, underneath your only changing colours!"

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