Neera, sometimes, it seems
you are more distant
than even the day I was born.
light enlightens gallows of darkness
truth is stark reality by flow idyll
we do exist today by non-existence tomorrow
iffy dream lays back to happen by desire
Man dressed in black
Holding high and tight
Everywhere we see things those are ephemeral,
Even body is transitory in this world temporal.
Pen paper to paste and home we need often,
Motor cycle, aeroplane and cars are softened.
E ach day in cotton gloves, the artist works
P erfecting gorgeous flowers made of silk
H armoniously hued and ever perked
E ternal, unlike fresh ones of their ilk
I hear you will not fall in love with me
because I come without a guarantee,
because someday I may depart at whim
and leave you desolate, abandoned, grim.
All in life is ephemeral.
Everything with time, it goes:
Along with it, myself—a passenger;
Life's circle closing, I suppose.
ripples like riddles
Out of sight
Yet, still disappear,