O Lord! Grace not!
For the pain blooming into tedious smile-
for the spirit filled, yet with beliefs
worth, never known!
In utter disbelief, won with passage,
When the world is despair for the crescent moon
in desperate search for yours-
truth, graced in temples and prayers!
Oh Muse!
In wee hours, the clarion call reminds-
I've to leave, leaving for the prayers;
when the evening journey reverts;
to my secular spirit; tired in searching-
but don't find, the treasures left-
behind the joy, in the serpentine undergrowth
and the deserted soul, . for heavenly peace,
abodes in your temple, above the earthly grace!
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