Bliss

The anonymous poet lives in supreme bliss, He has never tasted the pain and plight of the dingy world And is adorned with peace and prosperity all the time, Life is indeed a heaven to him, It flows unhindered like a free flowing stream, Destiny has given him every pleasant thing to relish, He is free to roam everywhere at his own will, In fact, eternal freedom has made him a blithe spirit. This way for a long time, the poet enjoys perfect bliss, Until someone knocks at the door to break it, He wakes up from his sweet dream And finds himself in the grievous bed of the gloomy world, The lovely spell of bliss is over, The poet screams in extreme pain and agony, As if the invisible bee of the cruel reality bites him with its sharp sting; Truly, the reality is so severe and frustrating That it gives nobody any chance to fly.