You do not die.
She too is a
tool of
Uncommon wish
for
A petrified cessation
Of this seamless Breath.
Torn between
Death wish
and desire
for perpetuation of life,
she
sways with uncertainty
and emotion .
Enacts the drama,
gruesome and
merciless
to grip the clamps
of Death,
‘oh! God! When do you plan to
knock me down?’ God
nods.
The Omniscient
admonishes
With gentle
smile, The Plant
Is mine, you have
no right
To uproot the Tradition
And Longevity. You have
To water many
plants.
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