There are two ways to look at poetry. There are two ways to look at life. It must be a lie because the 'poet' *makes* it rhyme. It can't be anything but the truth because the rhyme somehow falls in place.
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Life is at the peak of confusion
Not when 'up' is followed by a 'down'
But when it blows both hot and cold
When one feels weak as well as bold
When nectar and poison are one
When soft and rough spoil the fun
When the child is both patted and hit
When the lamp is blown out immediately after being lit
When one reaches the mountain peak
And yet there are no traces of what one seeks
When the fire of life is doused out of sight
Just as it begins to burn bright
The words to repeat as always
are Trust in God and hope of a divine blaze
The picture of a rising phoenix
Shows silent strength and wipes off the jinx
****************************
Life is at the peak of confusion
Not when 'up' is followed by a 'down'
But when it blows both hot and cold
When one feels weak as well as bold
When nectar and poison are one
When soft and rough spoil the fun
When the child is both patted and hit
When the lamp is blown out immediately after being lit
When one reaches the mountain peak
And yet there are no traces of what one seeks
When the fire of life is doused out of sight
Just as it begins to burn bright
The words to repeat as always
are Trust in God and hope of a divine blaze
The picture of a rising phoenix
Shows silent strength and wipes off the jinx
