The Three

The Three

The fetid flesh called body,
not knowing its days are numbered,
engined by smart mind propels,
bony ,nerve bulging skin
Craving for embalmed fragrance,
Tiptoes not; pulls up the jacket;
The hidden soul always serene,
we rarely go in search of it,
but IT hardly cares, endures ,
still the body in its depolarised
State vies, not accepting defeat.