Myriad beings, myriad phases, myriad hues
Life, in all its glory, is where, ecstasy and melancholy, fuse
It is never a bed of roses, for any
“Ce n’est pas possible!”, the French would utter
For it goes beyond the usual earning of bread and butter
Red- it is- the passionate youth brimming with vigour
Green- it is- where the pristine Mother Nature protects its children who suffer
White- it is- with tranquility and calmness replete
Blue- it is- where the open sky and the vast ocean meet
But it is also yellow- the pale, sick, diseased woman
It can be gray too- the old, fragile, humble old man
It can exhibit brownish colours too- where dirt, dullness and poverty abound
It can also be the Satanic black- where depression and suicidal thoughts are all what is found
Such is Life, O dear Pal!
With its graph curvy and every phase temporary
May the Almighty bless you with fortitude to survive,
For after you’ve been through a lot, it will be your time to rise and shine!