The arms of the night

The night tangled me in between its soft arms
And I,
Like a baby drooling over that which only I could discern,
Swept into its mystical waltz
Allowing myself
To witness that
Which is usually kept hidden
For the whole of humankind!

Pray, of what use is fretting over that which shall not last
Of what use is throwing tantrums,
Harbouring anger,
Nurturing resentment
And watering brooding shadows?

The night cradled me in its lap
And I,
Like a baby caring to focus solely on innocence
Let go of my heavy cross, tied to me by the skies
And smiled,
At the exalt of the scene thrust upon me!
When the meaning of life
Has still not been given solid foundations
When the cause of life
Has still not been proven
Why is it that living beings
Think of themselves as rulers of their own fates?

Life remains as fragile as thin glass
One bad step taken
And everything gets shattered into millions of pieces
Better it is to live it
As would a baby,
A baby seeing only that which makes him drools
A baby caring to laugh for trivial issues
A baby seeking only to be cradled in between soft arms!

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