The True Essence Of Life Poem by Vidya Mallar

That love in itself is faithful and divine, where heart reflects meanings peerless,
What's life when one is forlorn, depressed in thoughts meaningless,
Love in itself strives to be part life, when life no longer can exist without its presence,
Separation is intolerant, when emotions suffer, yet longs, for reunion in presence.

What riches may accomplish, when relations are in paucity,
What if a man dwells in mansion, colossal, yet has a heart mauled in calamity.
A garden full of flowers blooming, yet no graceful admirer of pulchritude,
What if passion remains untended, reflecting to be apathetic in attitude?

Existence makes man; fervour makes him survive in authenticity,
Whether fate concedes luck, is substance fervent in its extremity,
What relations may supplant, where emotions get desecrated dubiously,
What affinity may survive, when moral fibers transgress ferociously?

What life may gather if not held with respect and love in reminiscence?
What life will connote when passion is without any substance,
Where compassion lacks, affliction flows unintentionally in restless brooks,
Taking along the crux, leaving behind automated fibrous rooks.