Mores in Living

Fight

For love and faith,
to walk me straight,
I need thy site,
to dump my laith,
so to win the fight.

For Love and faith,
to fight with might,
I need thy sight,
so to make me bright,
to win the fight.

White

Life is a part of play,
that engulfs both white and gray.
And all the colors don’t stay,
Just peeping out in a fray.

How well we see the white,
Among all the darkest site.
For such is the White’s might,
That swallows the bad in sight.

Heart of pure should one have,
To ward off the evil in save.
Thoughts good are all brave,
As the reap and yield are rave.
For such is the White’s might,
That swallows the bad in sight.

A good deed done with zest,
Turns the favors in just.
Forgetting one’s previous lust,
The good shines removing rust.
For such is the White’s might,
That swallows the bad in sight.

Life is a facile play,
for who plays it all day;
Taking up the White’s way,
and letting the darkness slay.
For such is the White’s might,
That swallows the bad in sight.

The Other Side Of Moon

It was cold and the dark was dutifully vast,
for the moon takes over the vigilant task.
She shined along and with a divine nuance,
for the earth afar was in partial trance.

I mused a stretch at the comely crescent,
for she reined in tandem with her morning cousin.
It seemed the day is never too fine,
for without her charm that allays the sun's pine.

She insets few stars as pals in her tread,
for they make the welkin as an opulent treat.
I searched her around on that thankless night,
for she was hard to find with naked sight.

It was her show of her forms from whole to ring,
for each of it hard a tale to sing.
She eluded me as she wanes and lores,
for this is her other side; to undo her mundane mores.

I missed her much, on the lonely respite,
for the sky charmed none, cohort of twinkler despite.
She then came back again with an unsung verse,
for I love the one; all but more, when I realize the worth.

Peculiar Innocence

No eyes can see such black,
In a womb lies a baby packed.
In a blissful state he sleeps,
with a heart that purity reaps.
No hands can move agile,
for the room is too fragile.
He wants to be pretty brisk,
but life for him will turn a risk.
To be born he is in a while,
to greet the world with his wail.
All kith and kin do smile,
who came across from miles.
In a benedictive state he stays,
just eat and sleep and gaze.
Never once did he want to miss,
gets all of them to kiss.
He knows none of them at all,
yet he whines or laughs to make them pals.
No fear can set him to cry,
his play has no match to vie.
All he does is be born,
and lets all the sinister gaun.
For he's the form of love,
that's so innocent to sow.
Within you he stays forever,
within him you go out never.