The Nothingness-2 Poem by Nusrat Perveen

The coal black night seems to engulf it all,
the fake, the persona they wear all day long.

The desires, the cravings, the holy lust,
as the rays turn from fair to crimson;
as the darkness take over, making them bare,
the souls hidden in golden dust.

They lough all day, being all merry,
but lying alone in their cozy shells;
when all that remains is silence; the death like silence!
they hear their pulse, they hear it cry,
and feel the pain oozing out the flesh.

Its too hard to hold,
that dead, inert, indifferent body;
and the soul, oh! the petty soul,
it struggles but could not move.

It is her price, to smile, to let the spark burn,
it is her price, to love and demand compassion in return,
it is her price to be afraid each day;
for a dream, prone to be slayed,
for a love, prone to be forgotten,
for a treasure, prone to be stolen.

It is a price to be afraid of the scars, of emptiness,
to be lost and still preserve;
this inert, indifferent, empty shell,
it is price to yarn for sky, yet beget nothingness.
An unfathomable, perilous nothingness!

It is her price, too high to pay,
the price to die and being alive each day!