What is Reality?

I sit by the window,

Looking at the vast fields,

I sit by the window,

Gazing at the beautiful bields.

I look at the sky,

And see those floss candy-like clouds,

I look at the sky,

And see those stars like jewels endowed.

I glimpse at the river,

Flowing with a current tranquil,

I glimpse at the river,

Occasionally running over the jonquil.

I spot a throng of violets,

Ever so beauteous and beguiling,

I spot a throng of violets,

So lovely and alluring.

Far off I descry people on a hill,

Happy couples with their amiable kids,

Far off I descry people on a hill,

Enjoying themselves like no one ever did.

But suddenly I am awoken,

By a thunderclap like sound,

And when my eyes do open,

I am petrified by the sight around.

The vast fields were charred,

They resonated a destruction rooted chord,

The beautiful bields were a graveyard,

They were with dead bodies scarred.

The clouds had turned grey,

They looked like a procession before an affray,

The stars shone dully with dismay,

They displayed humanity's decay.

The river changed color,

It coruscated with that which is symbolic of valor,

The violets were trampled like sand dollars,

It seemed to be the work of the mauler.

It dawned on me,

That what I had seen,

Was my dreamland's tapestry,

Was nothing but a fantasy.

That this was my life real,

That this was my life's ordeal,

That this was something ideal,

In the life of a refugee girl.


Author: VR Kapse


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