I should’ve known this life
Was never a fantasy.
It was never a mere dream
But a bitter truth.

Its sweet days are numbered
And it’s terrors without limits.
Hardly does one remember
A beautiful, sunshiny day.

Yet the hailstorms are recorded
In the depth of our hearts.
Every sweet memory is tear mixed
But none of them to return.

Life seems like a very long trail
Of thorns and thistles.
Upon them, my feet bleed.
Yet it pains much lesser than my heart.

I can’t weep aloud
As for that emotion, I did lose.
But my heart weeps blood
From ceaseless wringing.

This is life, not an ecstasy.
This is life and it’s earnest
All I hope for is a moment
Before I cease to breath.

One that I would treasure.
‘A single moment of happiness.’

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