Surrounded by the absurdities and poison
Cloud cried out loud
And it rained.
Interacting with the rays of hope,
Its ruins spewed out a few colors,
And we called it rainbow.
Ironic, isn't it?
While observing only the colors,
We admire the beauty
But neglect really to acknowledge its sorrow.
Though left over from the cloud
Since radiating a few colors
We called it rainbow.
© 2022 NISARG MEHTA