4-.Inner Realm
Body
This body is waning and the mud fizzles,
The quiet breath is thinning out of
Morbid mind,
The goneness of years’ pain and Inertness,
The life is not born out of torpid knock.
Around the boundary the subtle timefleets,
The death is awaiting without warm respite.
Part by part the plod is ebbing into
death.
Life! the vital is on dewy shade of pyre.
Every breath is death and life is stressing the way.
The morning is aging with slow Sequestered steps.
With no afternoon life reaches the maturing night.
The song that blowed through palm trees with murmur,
The hush of Austral air did weave dream false,
and the Sybaritic mind that pondered,
Of the flower and garden with achy ally,
With the pounding passion is it, subdued.
The body is waning with music, eyeless dream.
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