The oscillating life between months and years,
Comes to a point where it started.
Dwindling between smiles and tears,
It often relates to me in an incident,
when an ant lost it's foremost part in an accident.
It's anterior body was entirely smashed,
Marches the winter, blows the breeze,
Afar there, are smiling scented flowers,
Raising blaze, buzzing bees; snow ceases.
Chirping cuckoos, joyous walkers.
In The Spider-Web.
Crossing the spheres of time and space,
Ruined statures of destructed nations bewailed.
Strayed in pleasures, vileness and malice.
Vicious devil incarnates; arrogance prevailed.
World Of Illusion.
This world of illusion seems
an abode of shadows, a tale of past.
A transitory phase, or, a scattered dream.
Short, as a wave over the other, surpassed.