The Art Of Crtiticism Poem by S.D. TIWARI

Beneath a candle, I always see the darkness.
Don't have any solution, how to bring brightness.
I lay it horizontal, the darkness goes to the side.
Trying to get it inverted, takes whole of the light.

Lately realized, it could be the Sun or a fire ball;
That would throw the light in the directions of all.
Yet to find the darkness, I have not lost the spirit.
I can always discover the ashes, in the inert of it.

I can talk, about the bright zone of ninety nine parts.
But I prefer to throw light on one, that is yet in dark.