Friday, January 17, 2020

Ain’t that Decent

If an objective is never to ameliorate,
Of who inhabit Ground or Stage;
And when branches exist parallel,
Thus, Notions confined, are unfurled.

What triumph in fooling trapped flesh?
Who dwindle like erratic or embedded with Complex!
Plain sailing to pursue such succumbed, as treat,
Counter, if has audacity, to any alike, shalt mean!

If traversed in black space for stars but can’t reach,
As before that, would be burnt to unparalleled heat;
But when touched that shalt be called One, achieved,
Not revolving around what’s inscribed or in lieu preached.

Who paint itself with contrived repute, & love it more,
Than truth of ephemeral existence or its own soul;
Alas! Under veil, that uprightness is blind & shallow,
Who buttress in parallel, ain’t unparalleled but hollow. 

© Pranav Chaturvedi 2020