An elegy on the death of emotions


Does not exuberance often take off to heaven

Emotions hence found on cloud seven,

The environs release merits in abundance

Despondency cloaks itself in redundance,


But then comes the time of affliction

The extent of which denies constriction,

Human looks like a stranded creature

Having surrendered to circumstances and chained by nature,


Felicity transforms itself to a fatal morrow

And the gleam of hope takes a stride to narrow,

How abruptly do those emotions draw to cessation

As though gravity pulled down the wingless elation,


The brook halts and every silence seems to plot a conspiracy

Every passing minute unfolds what had long been in secrecy,

Irrefutably is that a juncture feared most

When terribly fast winds hit the coast,


Only does God know with precision the causes and effects

A point that man commonly neglects,

Forget not the peripheries of creation’s perception

For it’s inane to accord a similar perfection.


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