One
saw, said, commended, condemned,
Who
was once, isn’t now, wouldn’t be, maybe;
A
witness testified its life & of others,
Yet couldn’t realized a day, why turned into anyone,
Amongst
many.
Took
shelter of the books or discourse,
Sailed,
charted, shared or alone;
No
different were on tracks who alighted, unison,
Or
on roads that took wherever, the young or grown.
A
witness thought, would’ve been decomposed,
And
swayed to the belief of, re-incarnate;
Dwindled
again translation, to be with Virgins,
A
witness unsure, recycled back & forth, with fate.
Closed
its eyes as it couldn’t see,
And
sometimes mere, didn’t want to be;
It
came, witnessed, spake, & was recycled,
Being
everyone, alas, yet, not the original being.
© Pranav Chaturvedi 2022