-
He stumbled into a garden - sunny, with swarming dragonflies,
In utmost rapt attention - the twirling butterflies inside
The vivid lilies, roses with the squirrels together signaled
That a heavy gush of elation was to yet again stream high
-
He doubted long his hunches and waited long inside
For the garden to truly settle, for the butterflies to reside
Silently, patiently, he stayed with the honeybees and queer skies -
He was looking for traces of dew amongst a murky, bitter paradise
-
Amid convincing fancies, gentle, and clashing versions of the eye
He sailed on such excitement - baffled, desperate to spot a tie.
His wishes, hopes and joy swung now on a blurry fate to decide:
Would the garden be a welcome home or stage a solemn regicide?
-
He was tripped, he was tried, he got tossed and he cried:
"Is it really lush, or has the green grass long dried!"
In faith, in hope had he long lost the King, now left to hone -
The heaps of dust, the rusted leaves and the sordid heart of stone.
-
No comments:
Post a Comment