Happiness, is it written
On our golden spoons
Happiness, is it discovered
on the valleys, of our palms
Happiness, is it ignited
on white flames of our moon
Happiness, is it buried
on the peak, across seas
Happiness, do I know
Maybe not
Unhappiness, I do know
Walking bare feet
On broken shards
an urn of glass to carry
every dawn to night
on oily paths of this world
Stand, I cannot, forever
Run, I cannot dream
This happiness, fragile. to secure
By strong feet, by these eyes
Treasure till the night passes
As those rays of warmth, bring
Afresh another, through the window
for another day
image: http://www.aladyinlondon.com