Paths Out Of The Tunnel
We cried out of the howling
World of birth bang,
Plunging into
Twisted tunnel
Of journey not taken
Beforehand...
Running, running and
Running in the
Hazy tunnel...
The eyes that will look the sun,
Begins with the mastery
Of its rays in
Graduality...
Step on to step,
We staggered strangely
Onward...
Realm on to realm
We ride, ebbing onward
On smouldering
precipices...
But we see the horizons
Yearning for,
Panting after-
The Lighthouse hazy
Before the eyes
Of our minds...
Life is hazy
In hastiness,
So we sort things out
In fastidious gasps
For we are but
the shadows
Of yesterday,
We strive to reshape things,
Out of those
Unwelcomed shadows,
That the present reality,
May be Moulded
Into future Vitality...
Eyes ... impatiently
Lifted up, makes our
Feets wobbled
Incongruently...
When things are done
By all means,
At all costs
Ruination is looming
Large, by the
Cornerstone of the
Waster's workshop...
Patience makes it
Clearer in due
Time... Its
Wipers patted the
Water hyacinth on life's
Journey into
flawless flow
Of the ship on
The waving waterways
Bounded by the banks
Bonded for our
Restful living...
Then we must
Culture patience-
Bringing her in prominence,
To the center spread
Of our heart...
To those that seek the good
Of others, the
Good life is the flowery color
Of their prideful territories;
Where like the
Honeycomb, the honey
Dripps of incandescent
Seasons, of fluorescent
Times, brightening
The cloudy skies on to
Better days and nights
For easeful
Progression,
For peaceful
Habitation
Until the winter
Of our exit wings
Comes, we must
Strive on to
Contain the bruised
Broken
Selves, in to
The symphony of
Harmonious whole,
Before the exchanges
Of runnings in
The twisting tunnels,
That goes on in
ceaseless
seasons.
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