The Seeker Of Sorrow

Man is the seeker of sorrow.

Willingly or not he is,

For he does often borrow

Tears to erase his ease.

Though he likes not he does

Remain in immemorial grief.

Though he longs not he does

Think things go wrong what if!

It seems sorrow, for men, is default

And happiness comes in like a guest

And it leaves soon or may halt

For a moment or two, quenches not quest.

The seeker of sorrow when this read

May now argue or nod his head.

The World Of Complaints

I saw a lovely red rose

At the farthest end of my sight.

I moved to it so close.

“How proud she be might!”

Along these rays and beams

Her sweet fragrance does flow

And to men in love it seems

For his love, a sign to show.

But I saw tears in her eyes

And wondered what the hell!

Why the red rose now cries?

In what sorrow did she fell?

It was her thorns behind

The tears she had shed.

“Won’t men in this find

A fade in my petals shining red?”

I spoke no words but,

“Yet you’re sweet and lovely.”

Could the thorns ever cut

The beauty I did smell and see?

I had seen tears in

Parrots and even in crows,

For both envied the other in

Beauty and freedom they owns.

Comparison’s the mother of complaints

And the father shall be intolerance

To see in others what in us faints.

Now the cure shall be in acceptance.

The world of complaints shall fade

When comparisons by acceptance are replaced.

Beautiful Love

Love and Beauty once had a fight.

Beauty claimed he is great,

Gifts all pleasure and delight.

But our poor Love is still illiterate,

Knows not to say words of wisdom,

Neither to lead nor to follow.

All he knows is to exploit the freedom,

And wherever he wishes he does go.

But this time he said, "I know not

To fight but may argue a little.

You may have won whenever fought,

But I had cancelled many a battle.

The more I'm in a tiny heart,

The more you appear in the eyes.

The more I leave the little heart,

The less you appear in the eyes."

"But I think it's the other way round..."

Flowed out words of Beauty,

"...and I may hold your count

And that for me is quite easy."

"I can admit if you could reason

Just this one thing that I mention,"

Began Love without a treason,

"...Man had ne'er seen in real a Satan.

Yet he pictures him the ugliest

In his dreams and in his imagination.

You could grasp it once you think it best.

Love comes first, Beauty- just a reflection."

The moment followed Beauty did think

And then his face had turned pale.

He stood frozen without even a blink.

Then he is cute to admit, "I did fail."

Love and Beauty once had a fight

And off course Love did win the prize.

Again and again with all his might

Love wins the hearts and every race.