Wednesday, September 2, 2015

WISDOM



From the crevices
of dead ramparts
a bud shines through;
decrying the keep, that
never outshone
when chambers played
a stony valve
to my heart, before

Bubonic heart mine
Swells my momentous pride;
sprouting, that dangle
the clear upper sky
manoevring the upkeep
with geal and joy
maintaining a tryst
in transit of faith

From fetters of
Stony hulk,
an oasis of trust, flows
by my heart;
All manoeuvre gained
was not all wilful
of my heart, but
wisdom that bonded us both

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