Life filled with myriad colours
Imbued by varied hues, intensity and ardor
What heart craves, yearns, desires
May not be always what it acquires
Maybe less, maybe more,
Life has got for us so much in store
Interesting with its quirks and surprises
Either apparent or in disguises,
Must face it squarely,as it comes
Is there any need for questions?
Rancor about life? Inquisitions?
Does life need any interrogations?