The beginning once seemed majestic,

but now it has to end.

Futile is this attachment to those memories.

No need to resist and defend 

The past from giving way to the present.

For that is what it was supposed to mean.

In the language that time speaks to us so often.

So perfect, so subtle, spoken to in a tone softened.

Perhaps, every good thing has to make a way for the better.

Under the shades of your past, for how long shall you take shelter?

Life has to move on, otherwise it is so boring

To sit and see fireworks exploding and confined lions roaring.

Beauty of life lies in each new moment.

That the life gives to enjoy but to torment.

The drama continues. It is only the scene which finishes on the stage.

At times a new chapter of joy 

waits beyond the full stop on the other side of the page.