The tumult in the heart for an impending disaster,
With the clamour in the mind for possible solutions,
The weather of the soul and day shake hands in friendship,
The horrendous rivers cry and shout at the highest pitch,
They hit my soul like a sharp axe hits the trunk of the
tree,
Left are the shattered leaves and branches of my wisdom.
The uproar of winds
and water frighten me from within,
The vehement screeching of the mind ends up in vain,
Like the assortment of violent winds troubling the heart,
The direction is lost and the heart wants to go with the
wind,
But the brain contradicts and opts for the safer bridge,
Either way the battle is lost for the soul in this moment of
outrage.
As I wait for the clashes of winds outside and within me to
subside,
The rain takes a momentary pause for the turmoil to stop,
The clouds step aside and the moon shines bright,
The darkest corner of the mind and the street has got its
light,
The result of the battle is hidden right in the light of
enigmatic moon,
With the artificial light it pours upon it still got a soothing
smile.
As I stare at sky studded with stars gleaming but cursed
with oblivion,
The mysterious moon shines the brightest and pacifies the
soul,
With the ambiguity it revolves around itself,
The deciphering of the direction is the help it offers to
the human mind,
Whilst the rain had its share of trouble to the soul,
And the furore sets aside with the achievement of direction
from the moon.
