It’s vital what you have, not what you don’t,
Some birds can’t fly, though wings they flaunt.
Happiness by its own finds you, no one will bring,
It’s just a hidden diamond in a copper ring.

What is bad, what is good,
For centuries, we can’t understood.
Humans are born with a cry, and die with a cry,
Happiness is only a wing which makes you fly.

Isn’t the light of hell and heaven the same?
It’s only a matter of where it’s placed.
Everything is duality with one face,
Without dark night, you don’t know moon’s grace.

An old man and a child,
Walking through fields and the wild.
A question arises in the child’s mind:
“What is life, and how shall I find?”

“Nor will you find it; it will find you.
Every age of life, it will bind you.
It’s not just what you see; it’s what you believe—
Like a saint among thieves.”

They passed a street near the Nile.
The child asked again after some miles,
“My question is the same—what is life?”
The answer changed with growing strife.

The old man sighed, his voice in pain,
“It’s nothing, child—only pain.
It dances in your heart
And grows with the tears of rain.”

At the end, the child asked with rage,
“With the journey, why do answers change?”
The old man smiled, calming his rage:
“Life is a view—through the journey, it changes.”

Every street is glowing with lamps and lights.
Dark nights bloom softly, like a new bride.
Who married a man
Who firstly killed her innocence, then her sight.
Moons and stars are watching these fools,
Killing the outer dark with their blurry rules.
They laugh at them, wondering how they survive,
Glowing from the outside, but dark inside.

Are they really respecting their gods, or only showing off?
Firstly, they make life tough, then say we have no hope.
To make one god happy is justifying making another mad;
They say it’s a victory of good over bad.
But with open eyes, they can’t see clear—
Good and bad are both as close as near.
Who is the devil? Who is God?
Isn’t the devil also created by the Lord?