Friday, 11 September 2015

That which is not...


Walking through this pathway in broad day light...
nothing could be noticed as far as the view comes into site;

Ain't on fire; still burning in the invincible possibility...

From outside its the questionable visibility;

Devoid of everything which comes with a meaning
yet this void having nothing is bright and beaming;

Remorse fragrance of impassiveness just about in the air...

makes me realize the stance of being alive with a flair;

Strange is the way this feather like touch felt so pleasant...

humming a timeless melody en-lived into an incessant;

Obscure, my identifications happens to dissolve bit-by-bit..

This rare magic resolves; getting me aligned with the existent;

Ridiculous are intentions running through directions those are diverse.

In prayers, to that which is not
minuscule me, desires nothing less than the universe of discourse!

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let the reviews come in......