Guardian’s " The Book."
It is
the Book of Timeless philosophy,
Dare not
cross the periphery, my hand is not
Dead, for browses pages
of density, agile
and eager.
At times re-reads
the life’s intricacies and snapshots
Of a much a troubled
soul.The Book is The Making
Of a Saga’s history, transmitted down
to posterity
Dipped in
sincerity,foayed by a visionary’s
appeal.
As my
drooping eyes don’t move further,
My mind
ruminates cosmogony distraught.
No
kissing, no writing, it is a sound sleep,
Slowly darkness recedes, wake up morn
comes,
Wind blows through
the curtained window,
A plastic flower
comes as
a go between
Me and
the cherished Book :
A new light
beyond decay
Comes and
unfolds a future of
Bliss
To enable
me to see a world of
Visible growth of
phenomenon.
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