Story of the obsessed-
Burn this altar, wherein your soul resides!
Let’s summon that fervent height.
Still in life, the mind captures transience,
Assassinate these overtures, wistfully.
The past is equally delightful and equally non existent
The colourless decorations of life are often, brighter at heart
The mirror stained with brine, now refuses to shine
Every tool to brighten it, resigns
All the monotony on one table
“Decorated with freedom.”
One of the conflicts being a human- the dependence on independence
Hold it, it’s precious,
Hope, faith, miracles.