There it slips, and there one goes again;
For it all shows me freckles of my petty existence.
Not all I crave for, can be mine
A fool I was, for hoping all would be fine.
Rounding marbles on polished glass
Hoping it would stay not fall apart.
Two are the sides of a coin not life;
Six faces of dice come with this double edged knife.
For hope had no power, if darkness didn’t remain;
Joy has had no friend like sorrow till date.
Not all can be right or wrong in sight
No life is protected from this annoying fight.
But gold only boils to shine when stills
And no one can rest without climbing some hills.