How's the sky?
Vast , right?
And endless too.
Whether dark or light,
Whether moon or sun,
Whether the stars or the clouds,
There's always something so much linked to it.
Isn't it way similar to us?
To our lives?
With the sky being our life,
And it's elements being our troubles,
It's beauties being our smiles,
It's attributes being our strength.
What about the rain, though?
The tears are as similar so.
And the storms and winds,
Like when our heart is in war with our mind.
Everything clarified?
Yet so,
Not yet though.
Is your life, my life?
Is my smile, your smile?
Are my tears yours?
Or are your problems, mine?
Are your sacrifices, mine too?
Not yet though.
But wondering though,
That from the window you look at a sky,
From the terrace look at other,
From here you look it's yellow,
From there you look it's not so blue,
While sleeping you see a dark one,
While other one sees a lighter one,
But are all these differing in actual?
Are all these, not one?
Isn't your sky, my sky too?
Isn't my night, your day too?
It is yet so.
So how to conclude?
The sky is similar to our lives,
Yes it is,
But not same,
How truly it can be said,
That no two things can be same,
It can be only similar,
Not different,
But still only similar.
