There it goes,

Welcoming what life has to offer,

Not contaminated by a fatal virus called desire,

Not keen on setting up its own pyre.

Not accoutering a fake smile as its attire,

Not reminiscing about things that made it tire,

Not being one in with the stars and fantasizing about its dubious future,

Not worrying about burning out resembling a candle.

Not expecting an act of gratitude,

Not whining about its life in solitude,

Not pleasing the captious eyes with an artificial gesture,

Not refraining to let go of the strings which wouldn’t entangle.

Not birthing a sea of woe made with its Aegean- tinted tears,

Not magnifying its problems so mere,

Not pacing around the four walls imprinting a path of its fears,

Not falling into a cycle of choices unclear.

Agonizing over our irredeemable shadows of self,

Fretting about things we used to revere,

Are to be forsaken,

to treasure what you hold, persevere.

Unbothered by my presence,

Nor my despair,

There it goes.