Time was trying to imitate my
existence
Unfolding of reality was just
pretence,
The lease of life was nearing
its extinction,
Only a whiff of YOU could get
back the admiration.
YOU ask me “How can I guide
you? I’m myself lost,
Bilking from the thought of
nights when they frost.
I upbraided the enlightened
soul for baring it all,
Never wanted again to stake my
wherewithal.”
I said, “The fruition of our
life is through its passage,
Doubts - the traitorous craven
will cause a ravage,
But if YOU can feel your
lotusland come alive,
Embrace the wind that was so
eager to deprive.
The wind will be the harbinger
of your essence,
My life will no longer be,
just a pretence …”
No comments:
Post a Comment