At the End of the Day.

Clear blue skies and gilded skyscrapers,
Sunlit pathways and delicate sun rays,
Dried leaves in the colour of warmth,
Crackling under footsteps both heavy and light,
Like the sound of a fireplace on a silent night;
Somewhere I’d rather be than here,
Someplace that is a peek into my head,
But even the sun eventually sets,
And all the light fades out,
Cold creeps in and the day comes to an end.

Stuck within these four walls as we are,
Do we still dare to dream of far away?
Holding on to the promise of tomorrow,
All the new possibilities of a new day.
But for once I wish that time slowed down,
And we’d stop to smell the roses on our way,
Sit on the grass and watch the stars,
Say things that we don’t really mean,
Because, at the end of the day, we’re only dust,
And the universe is a lot bigger than it seems.

Empty pages we try to fill to the brim,
All our words remain emptier still,
How arrogant we are to claim a world
That never really was ours to give!
We yearn for all we cannot have,
Like the tides chasing the horizon far,
Following the path of the constellations,
Running after some lonesome star;
But at the end of the day, it’s fragile hope,
The simple truth and the beauty of it all.

~© Shubhangi Srinivasan.

Featured Image by Matt on Unsplash

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