The Sun has a reason to shine,
Like clockwork every day,
It rises to witness life bloom.
The Moon has a reason to glow,
To give sermons to its apostles,
Of which, night is the first.
Plants grow, spreading the green,
They unfurl their leaves each day,
Faithful carriers of the breath of life.
Humans open their eyes each day,
And the purpose evades them, each time
Humans lose their minds with questions,
And each of them starts with 'Why?'
Humans start to tear open at the seams,
No answer ever comes
So, humans create their purpose,
And their strength to hold on.
This purpose and strength are given a name,
Many languages, but the feeling is the same
The strength they find within themselves,
And the purpose they can't live without.
The void that sucks each soul from within,
That void that craves for death's embrace,
A final attempt for self-realization.
That void is God,
And the humans built their purpose.
YOU ARE READING
A budding writer's collection
PoetryJust a bunch of poems written as and when I feel to write them
