Saturday, December 8, 2012

DINGY LANE


For only in the name
Resurrection survives
Dull and blade-less

Even the sickle
Feels happy as it
Cuts the fields

In plethora
The time abounds, in
Gabbing consciousness

Meaning gets gnawed
In that homely past
Which truly was abnormal

Need to be absorbent
In our momentous stir
Here the freedom bask

Don't cajole
With thy sweetness
It spits the venom out

You that count me
Count you first
In dingy lane

Never the spark
Needed the fire, ever
To churn the dark

The light glowed
In every inheritance, it
Touched the dingy lane

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