Under the Moonlight
Under the moonlight,
I feel light.
Under the moonlight,
I feel fine.
The sun burns,
too harshly,
too fast,
reduces everything to nothingness.
The moon cares,
caresses with ephemeral notes,
of love,
of life.
The sun throws tantrums,
or plays hide n seek,
so many times,
in its innate childishness.
The moon matures,
shows the cycle of life,
of how to grow,
and how to shed what you have grown.
The suns stands,
looking at us breathing heavily,
drenched with sweat,
it seems like a sadist.
The moon wanes,
but still remains,
moon’s love,
remains even when it's gone.
The sun baits us with,
its first soothing string,
of pristine sunlight,
it soothes ephemerally.
The moon knows love,
shows love,
stands for love,
is the epitome of love.
The sun stands there,
looking at tears,
but in inaction,
is the epitome of ego.
The dichotomy is,
at the same time ironic,
at the same time sad,
but alas, true.
Abhishek Verma is a researcher in the field of deep learning and artificial intelligence. He likes to write about the logical way of self-improvement. Spurred by emotions, he also likes to write poetry. Stay in touch by joining his newsletter. Follow him on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Pinterest and Mix.
