I got an idea once,
Weird though, but seemed new
I went to myself- that untouched one
and brought four candles
Lit them all, quite bright they shone
Picked the first, was called “sorrow”, I read
Wondered why it was shining brightest
Ah! Was about to finish,
Those who shine bright, always fade soon
Then came the candle called “love”
Beautiful, gracious like a seraph, of dreams
White, like a morning cloud in sky
But like sorrow, it too bid goodbye
Third seemed firm than rest of all, “friendship”
Pink, the color, I remember it had
Lasted for long, seemed with me from ages
Nightmare alive, when I saw, it too went off
The last one, now very dim, gone almost; was my “faith”
was kept in middle of others
centered, as if for help, I picked it up and blew it off
Its all dark now..
who sees any ways—You laugh, You cry and then You die