Saturday 2 July 2011


Why it is so that the time often comes with a
ever fresh, exotic beauty of seasons
with all the changes?
And after distributing alienation to others
and wounding their hearts enough
hunts them relentlessly

with it's cruel deceitful craftiness

why it's so that time never reveals
The truth ever buried in its chest
And while defining falsehood,
It talks nothing about Reality?
Yet, in the life's enactement
While changing perspectives of
the ways of living on the stage of existence
circumscribed by the agony of mouswing
darkness it relates a painful story
Time lifts the curtain of untruth
keeping truth in dark behind the scene
opens the mystic door of falsehood
when time uses the drop-curtains
why is it so that wisdom, i.e.
the Intelligence of age, containing the knowledge
of truth itself carries on its head
The pot of life filled with nectar and poison
it serves both love and misery
compassion and aversion.
While cheating us of our longings
Through out our life it enlightens us
With both the ambrosia and venom.
time changes itself
In ever unfolding new circumstances.
But ultimately leaves us alone heart-broken.

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