Give a refuge for me among the waves of

Oblivion, you the ocean of ages!

You write everything and obliterate

All things that were ever written, in your march.

Passions and desires become spring seasons,

Then turns out as periods, and points of time.

Bowers garlanded with sweet flowers that was once,

Have turned into burrows where serpents hide out.

You are not overwriting, but erasing everything

And is rewriting afresh with new splendours,

Granting novel hues, and themes to it.


Ripples of love soar up there and fills

Heavenly raptures and rhapsodies in the mind.

Finally the cherubic nymphs and fairies transform

Into bizarre figures, the eyes detest to watch..

You never attempt to topple down an edifice

But build them; yet you draw the dawn

As dusk that melts down in your folds.


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