The Gift Of Sight Poem by Laxman Rao

What would be the bards first & the final wish?
I suppose nothing but the prescience
Of a true mind absorbed
In imagery revealing its true form
Being grasped the way he had
The exact cohesion of his creation,
Where the beauty meets the mind
Surpassing the senses & the organs
The pure bliss sans the joy of ego
The acception with no one's prejudice
I'm almost at its mirth where no bead
Is worth enough to fit the laurel necklace
The gift of sight is to bestow its beauty
Whilst that of insight is to render its duty.