I would not call this Happiness.
I would not call this Joy.
I can call this Realisation
Which Time cannot destroy.
This State of resting in Quiet –
With no battles in Thought;
This State of Being, quaint and calm,
Which Time itself has wrought.
Quiet moments filled with Wisdom,
Mingled with Memory,
Create this quaint smile, calm the heart,
Freeing the essence of Me.
Sometimes Doubts laugh – as is their wont –
But Experience sings
In my ear, unmasking these Doubts
As vain, trivial things.
All that is meant as Destiny
Shall be what finally stays;
Then matter not cold, moonless nights,
Nor vacant sunless days.
2nd February
8p.m.
Hearts Still Care 
I my case such a blissful state of mind comes , once every 3 years or so and doesn’t last for more than 2 days. Even then, i only get there because of some novelty going on my life, not because I am at peace with myself. And after those 2 days or so , real life takes over. Despite all of that, this poem aptly describes the closest I can ever been to feeling content with my life.
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