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Showing posts from October, 2013


The rustles were in glee Of the wonders yet to be seen While they flew down dead.
Image courtesy: Internet

Beyond pleasure...

What do thee tell me, lord
from all the archaic creations of yore? Which remain afresh with time not fade away, in rhyme,
The arching heap which binds my gaze, the swooning speck which sweeps my pace, the flowing frill which I get to drench and the cooling breeze which touches my soul
Are all your children  the thousands you behold, here to put me on hold?
The blinding shine that makes me daze the rooted spine which calls my gaze The twitter that eases my groove the shingles that make up my roof
Are they all true  to extend a hand  to help me cling to my gossamer?
As I drench in the pleasures of your shore Topple down into the tides of bond Sail onto the miseries that rave,
I beseech you  to pour down harmony,  not pleasure, to distract me away from the daze,  not bind me into bond, to shower down the light, not confine me to a shade, to enlighten my soul, not to tie it to things that foul.