Saddness helps, and joy distracts
It is not depression
From the both sides of each act
You get mixed impression
That’s how sun confronts the rain
With complementation
It goes over and again
Kind of syncopation
I have lost my tail of dues
Due to my conviction
If its needed, I will lose
To your malediction
I don’t mind, if you agree
Or in case you won’t
That’s how things I tend to see
From both sides they’ve got.
Synonymous
Synchronized opposites drag the lost poet to the epicenter of contradiction
Anonymous scribes share dissident virtual podiums and only appear to be
Antonymous
03rd April 2020
Let The Pens Flow Antonym Contest
Sponsor Jenish Somadas
Syllables checked howmanysyllables.com
When It Is Winter
Whence from shine the seasons to whom and to where
High on snow peaked mountains sits the Buddha under a fir tree
Exalted warm in the glow of change and stillness he mediates
Never ending contradictions assembles frost transcends right there
In the heat of the desert Northern lights shed their guidance
To similar truth’s complementation seek meaningful sense
In abandon vast perception’s years cycle from our point of views
Swift within and without riches and scrap heaps of dissimilar hues
When periods swell and spell interchange across planets and orbit
In constant revolution vison blind folded deceptions and ruses
No one come high tides water or drought can simply absorb it
The winter is summer as spring turns to autumn and perspective
Emerges in harmony when my lights in the South levitate from
Reclusion where wise humans freeze sweat which is highly subjective
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