Image by Sudo from Pixabay

The spirit of festivities in its mirth saunters through the morning air
A beauty that haunts, a bane that soothes cries through the crevices of love and care
Lights that radiate, the illumination that enamors through the twinkling dawn
One belies to ponder over the versions of them that embraced them once, are now long gone.

We laugh, we dance, we celebrate, we vow to be joyous through the mornings at ease.
Yet we stare at our emptiness as we sit with a glass of champagne, when silence hits the evening breeze.
Oh, what a fool who has mastered the art of pretence, one that painfully deceives with a smile.
OH, what a thing of beauty, and yet the joy of none we are, to be envisioned like that, we go the extra mile.

Parches of striving arms trying to embrace the courage to be alive
Amidst the chaos, we tiptoe in dainty footsteps to embrace the tireless strife
The stance of duality, the one that contradicts the truth and the lie,
In our humanity, we forge the quiet strength that in the shadows of celebration cries

Maybe we don't need to be on top of the moon as the call of celebratory cheers plays.
We just need the gratitude that, amidst the chaos, still stays 
All we need is a little bit of hope that beauty persists
In the wistfulness of the conundrums, magic still exists

May this Diwali you open your mind to all the goodness that blooms,
May you heal in the radiant cachphonies that bring you out of the incessant gloom
The spirit of festivities beckons the spirit of the morning air
In the quiet strength that we behold, may our hearts be held with love and care

.    .    .

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