Friday, January 28, 2011

idyllic hope

The undefined limits of this world-
Forever diverging and filling the unknown chasm.
As every inch your tyres thread,
And every inch your feet touch,
The world becomes bigger and wider.

With culture bleeding through every pore,
With religion extenuating the azure,
With politics shirking the roads-
The sunsets and the trees and the infinite shore.

Feigning in boats and lazy waters,
Every thought vaporised like steam from tea,
The clocks stuck at seven,
Hoping to make sense of this supposed heaven.

Where does proprietary end,
But in the collective- sundering and unforgiving.
Where does the line end,
But in a junction- dispersing the parallel.

If dark glasses and brothers can,
Then who else can shun the conjurer?
If temples of wisdom can melt into
Churches of hope and the dedication
Of minarets- they why can't a step
Be put forth? Maybe a rapid falls
Or a bearded goat can smash
Or tear away the seemingly inherit
And wake up the innate in man?

But all that remains is a facade,
With a tongue sticking out-
Someday, the world may,
But all that matters is the idyllic hope.

The Light Shines The Brightest

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