'Tis the world
Gushing winds with emerald rings;
The ringing of your ears still enmeshed,
Those scrounging words you sing.
Sans the number in your list,
I saw the witches with clenched fists!
Hope I did not get out of it,
Or get into it, and Deep within
Who are you?
May I know your name?
Maybe I forgot who was 'Me'.
The rosy cheeks and bewildered shine,
Some reason for the days that once I climbed,
From the zenith to Abyss and back in vain...
With tears in my eyes,
Or still, there are none;
I came to know how cruel life can be...
The sunny days, with red hairs' fairytales,
How the seniors and you entailed.
Forget me not the garbage #CV you made,
I see the quench diving deep,
The cut-throat pain that you gave.
Sans the publications that you made,
I have seen these wonderous faces;
For the men may come,
And the men may go,
But hold on still to the belief;
You worship God without the utter instance,
You ignore the alms fetcher on your door.
A gloomy past and a captivated sight,
I am finally happy to see these books;
At least they are there to thrive.
Forget me not!
The lines of the learnt men;
Only these are your best friends ever and alive!
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