Life's Reality

Let the ants return to their home in the canal, Stop the pump, let their journey prevail. On the rooftop, beneath the moon’s soft glow, Food sits waiting, but no mother to bestow. On the peak of the mountain, where the college tree sways, In the theater’s dusty seat, in the car’s foggy haze, My name, once written with joy in my hand, Now shrinks, forgotten, on a debt’s demand. In the math book, where dreams once soared, A peacock’s feather, its promise ignored, No chick emerged from its colorful plume, But instead, an egg—life’s unexpected bloom. Here, it’s not just weddings that decide our fate, Even the jewels we wear seal the date. In city streets, life breathes once more, As a bullock cart passes, with roses galore. Death is a black goat that silently feeds, On the roses we cherish, on our heart’s deepest needs.