Vanity comes with a price

My happiness has had a good run,

my melancholic drug,

has finally,

put it to sleep.

I bear the saga of despairing rendition,

the shade in the blistering sun,

hovered along the meadows,

as the storm rose and it rose again.

I linger restlessly,

like the butterfly who was content to fly,

the caterpillar that hung fire to spread,

that vanity I longed for,

came with a price,

the stony butterfly died from the cold inside.

It's about time,

in life,

a little kindness comes and goes,

a long way.

Indeed, an empty heart makes none a contribution to the wealthy mind.

-Pranati Pathak;

17.06.2022

15:55