Inward life

The moment of triumph will not last..

Nor the moment of loss, nor the pain,

Soon it will amalgamate into the past..

May become a memory, or pass in vain.

The inward life has memories galore,

A few, seldom, in a few we live more..

Wishes and reality in perpetual strife

Bundle of contradictions, this inward life.

Authoring the rules, and breaking them too

Fabricating memoirs and hoping they were true..

An abyss of sorrow or happiness rife,

Such is the nuance of this inward life…

Living within a constructed paradise,

The bitter reality could be otherwise..

With closed eyes to believe its dark..

Such is the paradox of the inward life..

In a utopia with joys endless bout,

In the garden of love, weed of doubt..

A heart stabbed with insecurity’s knife,

Such is the treachery of the inward life..