The Recluse


The Recluse.

A clumsy heart,
Snugged by a thick shell;
A shell of ego,
Impregnable and obdurate.
Does it not melt,
Oh melt before the cumbrous needs?
Does it not relent,
Oh relent in the struggle of beings?
A lion in its pride,
Bows not the fiends hostile.
A fox in its rusty days,
Cringes seeing the glimmering nights.
The clumsy heart,
It plays fine in the times bleak.
Does not melt or relent,
Seeing the sorrows that soon fade.
Solitude it drowns in,
Is the best that it seeks.
A wish flutters at its final hour,
Comets or crowds should never weep.

Janitha Fernando.