The Contemporary Age

In spontaneity, I let my plights
Flow like the first streak of moonlight.

Amazed and wonder, I cast
To the teary eyes

Courage cancels suffocation
How long the endurance can keep up?

The awe-inspiring world
Has fear in its pocket.

I see a tight-rope walker
Every falling fear, the audience notices

Such is the world
And I am still weaving narratives.

I take this liberty to
Make pains visible and soothe.

In endurance the grave does not wake up
Assertive, I am my own guest

to dance in the first spring,
to wake up beside the street garden.

Nature is what I see,
Not devoid of pure souls.

The guest of honor
Reads the morning news

And is hired by the contemporary age.

©Sushant Thapa
Biratnagar-13, Nepal