A million tragedies left unsolved,
Man stood on the road of a solitary compound.
As the world around him ceaseless revolved,
In thunderous cackles and evil sound.
The man stood lone.
His burden forsake.
With fear to his bone,
Cursing God and Make.
His quest to seek Joy,
Proven to be fake.

A million tragedies being resolved,

Man drove on the road to Heaven's compound.

As the world behind him ceaseless revolved,

With tears and flowers on his mud mound.

Once he stood lone.

But his burden partake.

With courage in his bone,

And a smile on his Make.

He carried it with grace and-

Joy followed in his wake.

- by Aarya Gandre