Quiet and demure night
one finds out by chance
is sleeping peacefully
on the same bed,
covered by a grey blanket
the sultry day too seeks after,
the tribulations a day long.
One would think that
smug and complementing light
for her is an anathema, is it?
But now it comes to light,
he is more like her paramour,
this face she keeps hidden
so audaciously, the unabashed
adulteress has no sense of shame
"When you imagine things,
take responsibility to it,
don't try to blame others"
You'd hear her murmur,
the long clandestine affair of
darkness to light, takes me
to where it all began..
will there be diversity
that enriches life without contrast?
The Himalayas should
sincerely thank ocean trenches..
