Naught, is what we know. 

Nada, is what we truly are.

Here we are;

Forging our strings, 

Having them attached 

To anything that’ll make us cherish 

Our hollow existence.

And when the other end rots

And falls at our feet, 

We lament and grieve 

Until it becomes bygone.

It sure is a dark maze, this Life. 

Uncertainty overshadows it

Like a vile phantom;

A mist, so fatal. 

No one can see anything clearly;

Hence, the guessing game of ‘Belief’ initiates;

So venomous, yet so satisfying.

So ironic;

Everybody falls, 

Gets engulfed in the darkness, 

Just in search of illumination.  

Therein, lies the secret of life;

Just a pinch of hope

And a ray of light;

The elixir of ‘Will to survive’ 

Prepared by the Alchemists long gone.

                                                       – JAISMINE K. 

this mystical thing called life