Fear of staying in sidelines,
as a waning voice,
and falling in a drain.
You stand at the door of light,
and see the truth- boundaries
crumpling.
Afraid of transmission of lies,
interfacing long threads
of darkness.
It was extraneous, A
lot of heat generated by the
conversions. The doorkeeper remains the same.
The wisdom goes with
a begging bowl. Spirit was to
become an incomplete text.
-
Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: February 28th, 2019 19:21
- Category: Nature
- Views: 10
Offline)
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