Standing among a midst of crowd; strangers,
In a a far off land, maybe a hill?
Cloud nine just at the end of your fingertips,
take a step to engulf it in your palm,
But fall of, off the hill, which is an abyss.
And you fall with dignity.
A smile etched across your face.
While falling, you reminisce your time,
putting on a brave face for the crowd,
When inside, everything is dead and falling,
even the tears, on the opposite side of your face,
for you realize the tragedy inside;
that even the heavenly air can’t raise the dead of you.
On a face, scar’d with tears and all, you smile in your fall,
because you want to believe that you’ll finally be free,
Maybe the free fall can be a defibrillator to your philosophical heart,
Or just the push you’ve been hoping for so long.
But none of it will happen,
since your misery is not at its end,
While hoping to meet the Earth with just the enough force; needed to die,
You meet the Earth, with your heart still beating healthy.
With the chaos renewed, you stand up; atop the hill,
merging among the crowd, with the dead parts of you still intact,
Just now know that the suffering and misery is also a part of you,
And with that you start walking again, not knowing what to do next.
– Naba Mehdi