Kindness

I don't desire to lift the trophy for my aches
I had nights of haunting and terrible storm those with retakes
So I close my eyes to find my nightingale and offsprings of tree inhabitants
And breathed in vision to search for the finest blooms, the season's tenants
My poet taught me - immortal songs born out of sadness
Holding my hands to the sublime to the deepest forests
Where the fire is still young to wend the path Where the summit can be seen
leaving behind all the human wrath
And I laughed again as if a grand realisation happened
To forget that I should not be much loud though cry at the day's end,
To make people think that I am much available
Though the roughness of familiarity turns me unstable
But I am not caring for those to burden in a gift wrap
Instead want to rest my thoughts in these new found victorious trap
Of love for you for us for those songs you sing
From that dawn of our fortunate beginnings.