You shackled within a Prism, to be bent,
Own pride & prejudices of wavelengths!
Colours of joys & sorrows, vulnerable,
Light passing splatters frailty & strengths.
Sometimes, truth begins where it ought to have ended,
Under the shadows of distraction, it’s veiled;
Gemini, one-another but not distant apart,
Together when, as in differentiating refraction seen.
Or let nothing pass, & be an unseen opaque,
Wherein to only absorb, all that not disliked;
Or reflect, if unwilling to be soaked into,
Burning bridges that photons brought in sight.
The Prism is so gentle, indeed it bends, to show,
And had been impervious , alas, therein colors no more! 😊
© Pranav Chaturvedi 2021