Like a sun coming out from the cloud’s cave
To ignite the darkened paths,
I am red, screaming like the ocean’s wave-
Bereft of clandestine composure
But with a glint of gaudy exposure.
Emotions spring from thoughts,
To reflect a situation that’s either blue or grey;
Carted with a less obscured tray
To an abode of stoic or kvetchy countenance
Like a cork strapped on a pot.
Life is like a rose
That’ll lose its dignity without colours;
Like a pale sun shining through fog-
And like a lion living without preys,
Who’ll die of loneliness and then fades.