Sparkling lights and smokey haze,
dust and mud in sidewalk bays.
Barefoot plays in busy street.
Clothes are torn, embossed and stitched.
In their eyes you will see,
How fortunate one can be.
Sailing life in misery,
a piece of grace means world to thee.
People are busy embracing the season,
creating their lists of obstinate leisures.
Poisoned from pandemic exultancy.
Oh, If we could just imagine...
If someone would only care,
Spare some goodness in children's dream.
Let's probe that christmas indeed, was real.
Love does not hope for it is full of certainty
Love does not want for joy for it is full of exultancy
Love changes not for it is content in its caress
Love is not lost for it has found eternal success
Love shows no courage for it has unlimited prowess
Love has no conditions for it is unreserved bliss
Love begets love for it is saturated ardour
Love braves the globe for it is sated valour
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