My Two Better-Halves
If you see two of me
If you see two of me
Don’t worry
I have two versions walking free
Inside the same body.
One is a hopeful morning
The other being a constant night
While hopeful morning feeds delight,
The constant night just survives.
And in the middle
Stands befuddled
The wasteful eventide
And its twilight.
The hopeful morning takes me out
To bridges and birds on mountain-tops
And my heart is filled with promises
I make with myself for hours to be.
Few hours they are
Before the constant night
Takes over me
And my morning pride.
It gets dark outside
I switch on the feigned lights
Alas, none enters, none complies
To subside the worries of the night.
My two better halves; they seldom meet
The morning sweet
With empathy greets
The cynical night
That always fights
Any thoughts of positivity.
As the orange turns into black,
The hope of the day dies
And the constant night takes over
My dilly-dally stride.
At this moment of transition
They both look through the glass
And none can imagine this unwavering morning delight
Shut unsure into the darkest corner of constant night.
Yet when I wake up with morning delight,
My purblind memory hardly recognizes
Any sharp words or scornful lies
That the constant night had spread last night.
