Lonely Planet Part Two Poem by shuvo chakraborty

6
Internal darkness, internal pinning strain your very nerve,
Gobbling the tender heart which quivers like autumn grasses
Wherwithal being graced by sofest dews of pensive sense
Of parched aloofness in this spiritual barren world.
Rapid wants of near and dear, the murderous enjoyment of terror
On innocents, the hapless deprivation of poor by rulers and rich,
The occult indifference of beloved towards genuine love
Privy to misjudgement and misdemeneaour of blind countrymen
To immediate danger, the countless ignorance in and around
Pressing sensivities to be more internal and reticent.
There are eternal darkness resembling miltons dungeon
Not limited and confined to mysterious nights
Effecting the radiant sun in worse.
Effeminate citizens slighted by commonsense welcome the destroyers.
Poet, lonely soul nowhere to withdraw
Rotten in grave with unsung comrades.

7
What is the force of pyre that engulfed your father
With considerable knowledge of aesthetics
Burnt with crazy smoke within just forty minutes?
What is the indepthness of earthly grave
That ever silenced all the noble poets and Shakespear?
Earth is earth for mere consummation of mutual wants and greeds
Never escorting the genuine heart beyond the rumblings of troubles.
Sorrows innumerable with gracious forgetfulness
Saves us from epic tragedies.
Sleep is our rebirth with clarion call of passing morning birds
Retailing veil warning for another mundane day.
We embrace danger for dangerous sake
With little sense of pains
All our misadventures are daughters of stupidity.

8

What are after death, after our expiration?
Whither our souls loiter oh dear?
When we tabulate countless stars in never ending darkness?
Our silent or noisy departures followed by unnecessary cries of dear
Only haste our treading towards sun less night.
Oblivious soul never quires what are going on earth
Or has she moaned profusely before sun down.
We know owls of nocturnal genre will shrill our absence more and more
The heavenly full moon will never come across our familiar faces
Nor the joys of ordinary clan will ever greet us
We are now of nobody, nowhere to go
Save the darkling forest and vacant place around our home.
No consolation grace us or caressing soft hands of beloved
All are pour forth on eternal pyre of uncanny demonstration
Smoke of oblivion hovers around our dusty pictures.

9

What is true love? What ensure sober silence?
Indifference of beloved germinates pale faced youth numberless
Drive them to desperation of death.
Can it not be asked to our creator
Why the fair sexes are so incomplete and dilapidated?
Those who sail on fantasy and paratrooping peeping hunger
In insipid abode of charmless romantics
Never, never find answer of true meaning of love.
Those who resides fools paradise with bondage of marriage
Falsely imagining better half as a beloved
Which actually are Zeus thunder in guise of softness.
Silence which is another name of godliness
Ever evade its drear company in noisy earth
Is need of hour to all thinkers for creative paradise.
To be alone, forlorn be the heart and soul o sages of all ages.
Where shall we seek this pleasant silence?
In escaping dense forest or in high hill?
Whatever might be to be alone, a wish to be alone
From clamoring million fools be the eternal prayer to Lord.
10

What is study? What is its genuine utility?
To make us engage from utter loneliness on an around.
Black letters of noble origin germinates great thinking
With beaded spirituality and wideth heart.
Behold the commoners bereft of books
So shabby faced look in dark ignorance
Living deads in very shape of human appearance
Slave of all earthly emotion, no spiritual radiation
Run for spiraling greed to grab one which his never belongs.
Fountain of knowledge with philosophical and imaginary umbrage
Be our true companion till to last day.
There is no god without knowledge,
There is nothing spiritual save contemplation deep
Embrace the noble book not of earthly issue
And sail to feast of eternal joys.
Joys what we understand in daily sense are quite temporal and transient
So the beauty of human or other,
What remains only true knowledge that we garner
In our granary on Apollos very name till our departure.
What the unread men takes away with them on final departure?



6
Internal darkness, internal pinning strain your very nerve,
Gobbling the tender heart which quivers like autumn grasses
Wherwithal being graced by sofest dews of pensive sense
Of parched aloofness in this spiritual barren world.
Rapid wants of near and dear, the murderous enjoyment of terror
On innocents, the hapless deprivation of poor by rulers and rich,
The occult indifference of beloved towards genuine love
Privy to misjudgement and misdemeneaour of blind countrymen
To immediate danger, the countless ignorance in and around
Pressing sensivities to be more internal and reticent.
There are eternal darkness resembling miltons dungeon
Not limited and confined to mysterious nights
Effecting the radiant sun in worse.
Effeminate citizens slighted by commonsense welcome the destroyers.
Poet, lonely soul nowhere to withdraw
Rotten in grave with unsung comrades.

7
What is the force of pyre that engulfed your father
With considerable knowledge of aesthetics
Burnt with crazy smoke within just forty minutes?
What is the indepthness of earthly grave
That ever silenced all the noble poets and Shakespear?
Earth is earth for mere consummation of mutual wants and greeds
Never escorting the genuine heart beyond the rumblings of troubles.
Sorrows innumerable with gracious forgetfulness
Saves us from epic tragedies.
Sleep is our rebirth with clarion call of passing morning birds
Retailing veil warning for another mundane day.
We embrace danger for dangerous sake
With little sense of pains
All our misadventures are daughters of stupidity.

8

What are after death, after our expiration?
Whither our souls loiter oh dear?
When we tabulate countless stars in never ending darkness?
Our silent or noisy departures followed by unnecessary cries of dear
Only haste our treading towards sun less night.
Oblivious soul never quires what are going on earth
Or has she moaned profusely before sun down.
We know owls of nocturnal genre will shrill our absence more and more
The heavenly full moon will never come across our familiar faces
Nor the joys of ordinary clan will ever greet us
We are now of nobody, nowhere to go
Save the darkling forest and vacant place around our home.
No consolation grace us or caressing soft hands of beloved
All are pour forth on eternal pyre of uncanny demonstration
Smoke of oblivion hovers around our dusty pictures.

9

What is true love? What ensure sober silence?
Indifference of beloved germinates pale faced youth numberless
Drive them to desperation of death.
Can it not be asked to our creator
Why the fair sexes are so incomplete and dilapidated?
Those who sail on fantasy and paratrooping peeping hunger
In insipid abode of charmless romantics
Never, never find answer of true meaning of love.
Those who resides fools paradise with bondage of marriage
Falsely imagining better half as a beloved
Which actually are Zeus thunder in guise of softness.
Silence which is another name of godliness
Ever evade its drear company in noisy earth
Is need of hour to all thinkers for creative paradise.
To be alone, forlorn be the heart and soul o sages of all ages.
Where shall we seek this pleasant silence?
In escaping dense forest or in high hill?
Whatever might be to be alone, a wish to be alone
From clamoring million fools be the eternal prayer to Lord.
10

What is study? What is its genuine utility?
To make us engage from utter loneliness on an around.
Black letters of noble origin germinates great thinking
With beaded spirituality and wideth heart.
Behold the commoners bereft of books
So shabby faced look in dark ignorance
Living deads in very shape of human appearance
Slave of all earthly emotion, no spiritual radiation
Run for spiraling greed to grab one which his never belongs.
Fountain of knowledge with philosophical and imaginary umbrage
Be our true companion till to last day.
There is no god without knowledge,
There is nothing spiritual save contemplation deep
Embrace the noble book not of earthly issue
And sail to feast of eternal joys.
Joys what we understand in daily sense are quite temporal and transient
So the beauty of human or other,
What remains only true knowledge that we garner
In our granary on Apollos very name till our departure.
What the unread men takes away with them on final departure?




6
Internal darkness, internal pinning strain your very nerve,
Gobbling the tender heart which quivers like autumn grasses
Wherwithal being graced by sofest dews of pensive sense
Of parched aloofness in this spiritual barren world.
Rapid wants of near and dear, the murderous enjoyment of terror
On innocents, the hapless deprivation of poor by rulers and rich,
The occult indifference of beloved towards genuine love
Privy to misjudgement and misdemeneaour of blind countrymen
To immediate danger, the countless ignorance in and around
Pressing sensivities to be more internal and reticent.
There are eternal darkness resembling miltons dungeon
Not limited and confined to mysterious nights
Effecting the radiant sun in worse.
Effeminate citizens slighted by commonsense welcome the destroyers.
Poet, lonely soul nowhere to withdraw
Rotten in grave with unsung comrades.

7
What is the force of pyre that engulfed your father
With considerable knowledge of aesthetics
Burnt with crazy smoke within just forty minutes?
What is the indepthness of earthly grave
That ever silenced all the noble poets and Shakespear?
Earth is earth for mere consummation of mutual wants and greeds
Never escorting the genuine heart beyond the rumblings of troubles.
Sorrows innumerable with gracious forgetfulness
Saves us from epic tragedies.
Sleep is our rebirth with clarion call of passing morning birds
Retailing veil warning for another mundane day.
We embrace danger for dangerous sake
With little sense of pains
All our misadventures are daughters of stupidity.

8

What are after death, after our expiration?
Whither our souls loiter oh dear?
When we tabulate countless stars in never ending darkness?
Our silent or noisy departures followed by unnecessary cries of dear
Only haste our treading towards sun less night.
Oblivious soul never quires what are going on earth
Or has she moaned profusely before sun down.
We know owls of nocturnal genre will shrill our absence more and more
The heavenly full moon will never come across our familiar faces
Nor the joys of ordinary clan will ever greet us
We are now of nobody, nowhere to go
Save the darkling forest and vacant place around our home.
No consolation grace us or caressing soft hands of beloved
All are pour forth on eternal pyre of uncanny demonstration
Smoke of oblivion hovers around our dusty pictures.

9

What is true love? What ensure sober silence?
Indifference of beloved germinates pale faced youth numberless
Drive them to desperation of death.
Can it not be asked to our creator
Why the fair sexes are so incomplete and dilapidated?
Those who sail on fantasy and paratrooping peeping hunger
In insipid abode of charmless romantics
Never, never find answer of true meaning of love.
Those who resides fools paradise with bondage of marriage
Falsely imagining better half as a beloved
Which actually are Zeus thunder in guise of softness.
Silence which is another name of godliness
Ever evade its drear company in noisy earth
Is need of hour to all thinkers for creative paradise.
To be alone, forlorn be the heart and soul o sages of all ages.
Where shall we seek this pleasant silence?
In escaping dense forest or in high hill?
Whatever might be to be alone, a wish to be alone
From clamoring million fools be the eternal prayer to Lord.
10

What is study? What is its genuine utility?
To make us engage from utter loneliness on an around.
Black letters of noble origin germinates great thinking
With beaded spirituality and wideth heart.
Behold the commoners bereft of books
So shabby faced look in dark ignorance
Living deads in very shape of human appearance
Slave of all earthly emotion, no spiritual radiation
Run for spiraling greed to grab one which his never belongs.
Fountain of knowledge with philosophical and imaginary umbrage
Be our true companion till to last day.
There is no god without knowledge,
There is nothing spiritual save contemplation deep
Embrace the noble book not of earthly issue
And sail to feast of eternal joys.
Joys what we understand in daily sense are quite temporal and transient
So the beauty of human or other,
What remains only true knowledge that we garner
In our granary on Apollos very name till our departure.
What the unread men takes away with them on final departure?





6
Internal darkness, internal pinning strain your very nerve,
Gobbling the tender heart which quivers like autumn grasses
Wherwithal being graced by sofest dews of pensive sense
Of parched aloofness in this spiritual barren world.
Rapid wants of near and dear, the murderous enjoyment of terror
On innocents, the hapless deprivation of poor by rulers and rich,
The occult indifference of beloved towards genuine love
Privy to misjudgement and misdemeneaour of blind countrymen
To immediate danger, the countless ignorance in and around
Pressing sensivities to be more internal and reticent.
There are eternal darkness resembling miltons dungeon
Not limited and confined to mysterious nights
Effecting the radiant sun in worse.
Effeminate citizens slighted by commonsense welcome the destroyers.
Poet, lonely soul nowhere to withdraw
Rotten in grave with unsung comrades.

7
What is the force of pyre that engulfed your father
With considerable knowledge of aesthetics
Burnt with crazy smoke within just forty minutes?
What is the indepthness of earthly grave
That ever silenced all the noble poets and Shakespear?
Earth is earth for mere consummation of mutual wants and greeds
Never escorting the genuine heart beyond the rumblings of troubles.
Sorrows innumerable with gracious forgetfulness
Saves us from epic tragedies.
Sleep is our rebirth with clarion call of passing morning birds
Retailing veil warning for another mundane day.
We embrace danger for dangerous sake
With little sense of pains
All our misadventures are daughters of stupidity.

8

What are after death, after our expiration?
Whither our souls loiter oh dear?
When we tabulate countless stars in never ending darkness?
Our silent or noisy departures followed by unnecessary cries of dear
Only haste our treading towards sun less night.
Oblivious soul never quires what are going on earth
Or has she moaned profusely before sun down.
We know owls of nocturnal genre will shrill our absence more and more
The heavenly full moon will never come across our familiar faces
Nor the joys of ordinary clan will ever greet us
We are now of nobody, nowhere to go
Save the darkling forest and vacant place around our home.
No consolation grace us or caressing soft hands of beloved
All are pour forth on eternal pyre of uncanny demonstration
Smoke of oblivion hovers around our dusty pictures.

9

What is true love? What ensure sober silence?
Indifference of beloved germinates pale faced youth numberless
Drive them to desperation of death.
Can it not be asked to our creator
Why the fair sexes are so incomplete and dilapidated?
Those who sail on fantasy and paratrooping peeping hunger
In insipid abode of charmless romantics
Never, never find answer of true meaning of love.
Those who resides fools paradise with bondage of marriage
Falsely imagining better half as a beloved
Which actually are Zeus thunder in guise of softness.
Silence which is another name of godliness
Ever evade its drear company in noisy earth
Is need of hour to all thinkers for creative paradise.
To be alone, forlorn be the heart and soul o sages of all ages.
Where shall we seek this pleasant silence?
In escaping dense forest or in high hill?
Whatever might be to be alone, a wish to be alone
From clamoring million fools be the eternal prayer to Lord.
10

What is study? What is its genuine utility?
To make us engage from utter loneliness on an around.
Black letters of noble origin germinates great thinking
With beaded spirituality and wideth heart.
Behold the commoners bereft of books
So shabby faced look in dark ignorance
Living deads in very shape of human appearance
Slave of all earthly emotion, no spiritual radiation
Run for spiraling greed to grab one which his never belongs.
Fountain of knowledge with philosophical and imaginary umbrage
Be our true companion till to last day.
There is no god without knowledge,
There is nothing spiritual save contemplation deep
Embrace the noble book not of earthly issue
And sail to feast of eternal joys.
Joys what we understand in daily sense are quite temporal and transient
So the beauty of human or other,
What remains only true knowledge that we garner
In our granary on Apollos very name till our departure.
What the unread men takes away with them on final departure?


6
Internal darkness, internal pinning strain your very nerve,
Gobbling the tender heart which quivers like autumn grasses
Wherwithal being graced by sofest dews of pensive sense
Of parched aloofness in this spiritual barren world.
Rapid wants of near and dear, the murderous enjoyment of terror
On innocents, the hapless deprivation of poor by rulers and rich,
The occult indifference of beloved towards genuine love
Privy to misjudgement and misdemeneaour of blind countrymen
To immediate danger, the countless ignorance in and around
Pressing sensivities to be more internal and reticent.
There are eternal darkness resembling miltons dungeon
Not limited and confined to mysterious nights
Effecting the radiant sun in worse.
Effeminate citizens slighted by commonsense welcome the destroyers.
Poet, lonely soul nowhere to withdraw
Rotten in grave with unsung comrades.

7
What is the force of pyre that engulfed your father
With considerable knowledge of aesthetics
Burnt with crazy smoke within just forty minutes?
What is the indepthness of earthly grave
That ever silenced all the noble poets and Shakespear?
Earth is earth for mere consummation of mutual wants and greeds
Never escorting the genuine heart beyond the rumblings of troubles.
Sorrows innumerable with gracious forgetfulness
Saves us from epic tragedies.
Sleep is our rebirth with clarion call of passing morning birds
Retailing veil warning for another mundane day.
We embrace danger for dangerous sake
With little sense of pains
All our misadventures are daughters of stupidity.

8

What are after death, after our expiration?
Whither our souls loiter oh dear?
When we tabulate countless stars in never ending darkness?
Our silent or noisy departures followed by unnecessary cries of dear
Only haste our treading towards sun less night.
Oblivious soul never quires what are going on earth
Or has she moaned profusely before sun down.
We know owls of nocturnal genre will shrill our absence more and more
The heavenly full moon will never come across our familiar faces
Nor the joys of ordinary clan will ever greet us
We are now of nobody, nowhere to go
Save the darkling forest and vacant place around our home.
No consolation grace us or caressing soft hands of beloved
All are pour forth on eternal pyre of uncanny demonstration
Smoke of oblivion hovers around our dusty pictures.

9

What is true love? What ensure sober silence?
Indifference of beloved germinates pale faced youth numberless
Drive them to desperation of death.
Can it not be asked to our creator
Why the fair sexes are so incomplete and dilapidated?
Those who sail on fantasy and paratrooping peeping hunger
In insipid abode of charmless romantics
Never, never find answer of true meaning of love.
Those who resides fools paradise with bondage of marriage
Falsely imagining better half as a beloved
Which actually are Zeus thunder in guise of softness.
Silence which is another name of godliness
Ever evade its drear company in noisy earth
Is need of hour to all thinkers for creative paradise.
To be alone, forlorn be the heart and soul o sages of all ages.
Where shall we seek this pleasant silence?
In escaping dense forest or in high hill?
Whatever might be to be alone, a wish to be alone
From clamoring million fools be the eternal prayer to Lord.
10

What is study? What is its genuine utility?
To make us engage from utter loneliness on an around.
Black letters of noble origin germinates great thinking
With beaded spirituality and wideth heart.
Behold the commoners bereft of books
So shabby faced look in dark ignorance
Living deads in very shape of human appearance
Slave of all earthly emotion, no spiritual radiation
Run for spiraling greed to grab one which his never belongs.
Fountain of knowledge with philosophical and imaginary umbrage
Be our true companion till to last day.
There is no god without knowledge,
There is nothing spiritual save contemplation deep
Embrace the noble book not of earthly issue
And sail to feast of eternal joys.
Joys what we understand in daily sense are quite temporal and transient
So the beauty of human or other,
What remains only true knowledge that we garner
In our granary on Apollos very name till our departure.
What the unread men takes away with them on final departure?




6
Internal darkness, internal pinning strain your very nerve,
Gobbling the tender heart which quivers like autumn grasses
Wherwithal being graced by sofest dews of pensive sense
Of parched aloofness in this spiritual barren world.
Rapid wants of near and dear, the murderous enjoyment of terror
On innocents, the hapless deprivation of poor by rulers and rich,
The occult indifference of beloved towards genuine love
Privy to misjudgement and misdemeneaour of blind countrymen
To immediate danger, the countless ignorance in and around
Pressing sensivities to be more internal and reticent.
There are eternal darkness resembling miltons dungeon
Not limited and confined to mysterious nights
Effecting the radiant sun in worse.
Effeminate citizens slighted by commonsense welcome the destroyers.
Poet, lonely soul nowhere to withdraw
Rotten in grave with unsung comrades.

7
What is the force of pyre that engulfed your father
With considerable knowledge of aesthetics
Burnt with crazy smoke within just forty minutes?
What is the indepthness of earthly grave
That ever silenced all the noble poets and Shakespear?
Earth is earth for mere consummation of mutual wants and greeds
Never escorting the genuine heart beyond the rumblings of troubles.
Sorrows innumerable with gracious forgetfulness
Saves us from epic tragedies.
Sleep is our rebirth with clarion call of passing morning birds
Retailing veil warning for another mundane day.
We embrace danger for dangerous sake
With little sense of pains
All our misadventures are daughters of stupidity.

8

What are after death, after our expiration?
Whither our souls loiter oh dear?
When we tabulate countless stars in never ending darkness?
Our silent or noisy departures followed by unnecessary cries of dear
Only haste our treading towards sun less night.
Oblivious soul never quires what are going on earth
Or has she moaned profusely before sun down.
We know owls of nocturnal genre will shrill our absence more and more
The heavenly full moon will never come across our familiar faces
Nor the joys of ordinary clan will ever greet us
We are now of nobody, nowhere to go
Save the darkling forest and vacant place around our home.
No consolation grace us or caressing soft hands of beloved
All are pour forth on eternal pyre of uncanny demonstration
Smoke of oblivion hovers around our dusty pictures.

9

What is true love? What ensure sober silence?
Indifference of beloved germinates pale faced youth numberless
Drive them to desperation of death.
Can it not be asked to our creator
Why the fair sexes are so incomplete and dilapidated?
Those who sail on fantasy and paratrooping peeping hunger
In insipid abode of charmless romantics
Never, never find answer of true meaning of love.
Those who resides fools paradise with bondage of marriage
Falsely imagining better half as a beloved
Which actually are Zeus thunder in guise of softness.
Silence which is another name of godliness
Ever evade its drear company in noisy earth
Is need of hour to all thinkers for creative paradise.
To be alone, forlorn be the heart and soul o sages of all ages.
Where shall we seek this pleasant silence?
In escaping dense forest or in high hill?
Whatever might be to be alone, a wish to be alone
From clamoring million fools be the eternal prayer to Lord.
10

What is study? What is its genuine utility?
To make us engage from utter loneliness on an around.
Black letters of noble origin germinates great thinking
With beaded spirituality and wideth heart.
Behold the commoners bereft of books
So shabby faced look in dark ignorance
Living deads in very shape of human appearance
Slave of all earthly emotion, no spiritual radiation
Run for spiraling greed to grab one which his never belongs.
Fountain of knowledge with philosophical and imaginary umbrage
Be our true companion till to last day.
There is no god without knowledge,
There is nothing spiritual save contemplation deep
Embrace the noble book not of earthly issue
And sail to feast of eternal joys.
Joys what we understand in daily sense are quite temporal and transient
So the beauty of human or other,
What remains only true knowledge that we garner
In our granary on Apollos very name till our departure.
What the unread men takes away with them on final departure?



6
Internal darkness, internal pinning strain your very nerve,
Gobbling the tender heart which quivers like autumn grasses
Wherwithal being graced by sofest dews of pensive sense
Of parched aloofness in this spiritual barren world.
Rapid wants of near and dear, the murderous enjoyment of terror
On innocents, the hapless deprivation of poor by rulers and rich,
The occult indifference of beloved towards genuine love
Privy to misjudgement and misdemeneaour of blind countrymen
To immediate danger, the countless ignorance in and around
Pressing sensivities to be more internal and reticent.
There are eternal darkness resembling miltons dungeon
Not limited and confined to mysterious nights
Effecting the radiant sun in worse.
Effeminate citizens slighted by commonsense welcome the destroyers.
Poet, lonely soul nowhere to withdraw
Rotten in grave with unsung comrades.

7
What is the force of pyre that engulfed your father
With considerable knowledge of aesthetics
Burnt with crazy smoke within just forty minutes?
What is the indepthness of earthly grave
That ever silenced all the noble poets and Shakespear?
Earth is earth for mere consummation of mutual wants and greeds
Never escorting the genuine heart beyond the rumblings of troubles.
Sorrows innumerable with gracious forgetfulness
Saves us from epic tragedies.
Sleep is our rebirth with clarion call of passing morning birds
Retailing veil warning for another mundane day.
We embrace danger for dangerous sake
With little sense of pains
All our misadventures are daughters of stupidity.

8

What are after death, after our expiration?
Whither our souls loiter oh dear?
When we tabulate countless stars in never ending darkness?
Our silent or noisy departures followed by unnecessary cries of dear
Only haste our treading towards sun less night.
Oblivious soul never quires what are going on earth
Or has she moaned profusely before sun down.
We know owls of nocturnal genre will shrill our absence more and more
The heavenly full moon will never come across our familiar faces
Nor the joys of ordinary clan will ever greet us
We are now of nobody, nowhere to go
Save the darkling forest and vacant place around our home.
No consolation grace us or caressing soft hands of beloved
All are pour forth on eternal pyre of uncanny demonstration
Smoke of oblivion hovers around our dusty pictures.

9

What is true love? What ensure sober silence?
Indifference of beloved germinates pale faced youth numberless
Drive them to desperation of death.
Can it not be asked to our creator
Why the fair sexes are so incomplete and dilapidated?
Those who sail on fantasy and paratrooping peeping hunger
In insipid abode of charmless romantics
Never, never find answer of true meaning of love.
Those who resides fools paradise with bondage of marriage
Falsely imagining better half as a beloved
Which actually are Zeus thunder in guise of softness.
Silence which is another name of godliness
Ever evade its drear company in noisy earth
Is need of hour to all thinkers for creative paradise.
To be alone, forlorn be the heart and soul o sages of all ages.
Where shall we seek this pleasant silence?
In escaping dense forest or in high hill?
Whatever might be to be alone, a wish to be alone
From clamoring million fools be the eternal prayer to Lord.
10

What is study? What is its genuine utility?
To make us engage from utter loneliness on an around.
Black letters of noble origin germinates great thinking
With beaded spirituality and wideth heart.
Behold the commoners bereft of books
So shabby faced look in dark ignorance
Living deads in very shape of human appearance
Slave of all earthly emotion, no spiritual radiation
Run for spiraling greed to grab one which his never belongs.
Fountain of knowledge with philosophical and imaginary umbrage
Be our true companion till to last day.
There is no god without knowledge,
There is nothing spiritual save contemplation deep
Embrace the noble book not of earthly issue
And sail to feast of eternal joys.
Joys what we understand in daily sense are quite temporal and transient
So the beauty of human or other,
What remains only true knowledge that we garner
In our granary on Apollos very name till our departure.
What the unread men takes away with them on final departure?



6
Internal darkness, internal pinning strain your very nerve,
Gobbling the tender heart which quivers like autumn grasses
Wherwithal being graced by sofest dews of pensive sense
Of parched aloofness in this spiritual barren world.
Rapid wants of near and dear, the murderous enjoyment of terror
On innocents, the hapless deprivation of poor by rulers and rich,
The occult indifference of beloved towards genuine love
Privy to misjudgement and misdemeneaour of blind countrymen
To immediate danger, the countless ignorance in and around
Pressing sensivities to be more internal and reticent.
There are eternal darkness resembling miltons dungeon
Not limited and confined to mysterious nights
Effecting the radiant sun in worse.
Effeminate citizens slighted by commonsense welcome the destroyers.
Poet, lonely soul nowhere to withdraw
Rotten in grave with unsung comrades.

7
What is the force of pyre that engulfed your father
With considerable knowledge of aesthetics
Burnt with crazy smoke within just forty minutes?
What is the indepthness of earthly grave
That ever silenced all the noble poets and Shakespear?
Earth is earth for mere consummation of mutual wants and greeds
Never escorting the genuine heart beyond the rumblings of troubles.
Sorrows innumerable with gracious forgetfulness
Saves us from epic tragedies.
Sleep is our rebirth with clarion call of passing morning birds
Retailing veil warning for another mundane day.
We embrace danger for dangerous sake
With little sense of pains
All our misadventures are daughters of stupidity.

8

What are after death, after our expiration?
Whither our souls loiter oh dear?
When we tabulate countless stars in never ending darkness?
Our silent or noisy departures followed by unnecessary cries of dear
Only haste our treading towards sun less night.
Oblivious soul never quires what are going on earth
Or has she moaned profusely before sun down.
We know owls of nocturnal genre will shrill our absence more and more
The heavenly full moon will never come across our familiar faces
Nor the joys of ordinary clan will ever greet us
We are now of nobody, nowhere to go
Save the darkling forest and vacant place around our home.
No consolation grace us or caressing soft hands of beloved
All are pour forth on eternal pyre of uncanny demonstration
Smoke of oblivion hovers around our dusty pictures.

9

What is true love? What ensure sober silence?
Indifference of beloved germinates pale faced youth numberless
Drive them to desperation of death.
Can it not be asked to our creator
Why the fair sexes are so incomplete and dilapidated?
Those who sail on fantasy and paratrooping peeping hunger
In insipid abode of charmless romantics
Never, never find answer of true meaning of love.
Those who resides fools paradise with bondage of marriage
Falsely imagining better half as a beloved
Which actually are Zeus thunder in guise of softness.
Silence which is another name of godliness
Ever evade its drear company in noisy earth
Is need of hour to all thinkers for creative paradise.
To be alone, forlorn be the heart and soul o sages of all ages.
Where shall we seek this pleasant silence?
In escaping dense forest or in high hill?
Whatever might be to be alone, a wish to be alone
From clamoring million fools be the eternal prayer to Lord.
10

What is study? What is its genuine utility?
To make us engage from utter loneliness on an around.
Black letters of noble origin germinates great thinking
With beaded spirituality and wideth heart.
Behold the commoners bereft of books
So shabby faced look in dark ignorance
Living deads in very shape of human appearance
Slave of all earthly emotion, no spiritual radiation
Run for spiraling greed to grab one which his never belongs.
Fountain of knowledge with philosophical and imaginary umbrage
Be our true companion till to last day.
There is no god without knowledge,
There is nothing spiritual save contemplation deep
Embrace the noble book not of earthly issue
And sail to feast of eternal joys.
Joys what we understand in daily sense are quite temporal and transient
So the beauty of human or other,
What remains only true knowledge that we garner
In our granary on Apollos very name till our departure.
What the unread men takes away with them on final departure?



6
Internal darkness, internal pinning strain your very nerve,
Gobbling the tender heart which quivers like autumn grasses
Wherwithal being graced by sofest dews of pensive sense
Of parched aloofness in this spiritual barren world.
Rapid wants of near and dear, the murderous enjoyment of terror
On innocents, the hapless deprivation of poor by rulers and rich,
The occult indifference of beloved towards genuine love
Privy to misjudgement and misdemeneaour of blind countrymen
To immediate danger, the countless ignorance in and around
Pressing sensivities to be more internal and reticent.
There are eternal darkness resembling miltons dungeon
Not limited and confined to mysterious nights
Effecting the radiant sun in worse.
Effeminate citizens slighted by commonsense welcome the destroyers.
Poet, lonely soul nowhere to withdraw
Rotten in grave with unsung comrades.

7
What is the force of pyre that engulfed your father
With considerable knowledge of aesthetics
Burnt with crazy smoke within just forty minutes?
What is the indepthness of earthly grave
That ever silenced all the noble poets and Shakespear?
Earth is earth for mere consummation of mutual wants and greeds
Never escorting the genuine heart beyond the rumblings of troubles.
Sorrows innumerable with gracious forgetfulness
Saves us from epic tragedies.
Sleep is our rebirth with clarion call of passing morning birds
Retailing veil warning for another mundane day.
We embrace danger for dangerous sake
With little sense of pains
All our misadventures are daughters of stupidity.

8

What are after death, after our expiration?
Whither our souls loiter oh dear?
When we tabulate countless stars in never ending darkness?
Our silent or noisy departures followed by unnecessary cries of dear
Only haste our treading towards sun less night.
Oblivious soul never quires what are going on earth
Or has she moaned profusely before sun down.
We know owls of nocturnal genre will shrill our absence more and more
The heavenly full moon will never come across our familiar faces
Nor the joys of ordinary clan will ever greet us
We are now of nobody, nowhere to go
Save the darkling forest and vacant place around our home.
No consolation grace us or caressing soft hands of beloved
All are pour forth on eternal pyre of uncanny demonstration
Smoke of oblivion hovers around our dusty pictures.

9

What is true love? What ensure sober silence?
Indifference of beloved germinates pale faced youth numberless
Drive them to desperation of death.
Can it not be asked to our creator
Why the fair sexes are so incomplete and dilapidated?
Those who sail on fantasy and paratrooping peeping hunger
In insipid abode of charmless romantics
Never, never find answer of true meaning of love.
Those who resides fools paradise with bondage of marriage
Falsely imagining better half as a beloved
Which actually are Zeus thunder in guise of softness.
Silence which is another name of godliness
Ever evade its drear company in noisy earth
Is need of hour to all thinkers for creative paradise.
To be alone, forlorn be the heart and soul o sages of all ages.
Where shall we seek this pleasant silence?
In escaping dense forest or in high hill?
Whatever might be to be alone, a wish to be alone
From clamoring million fools be the eternal prayer to Lord.
10

What is study? What is its genuine utility?
To make us engage from utter loneliness on an around.
Black letters of noble origin germinates great thinking
With beaded spirituality and wideth heart.
Behold the commoners bereft of books
So shabby faced look in dark ignorance
Living deads in very shape of human appearance
Slave of all earthly emotion, no spiritual radiation
Run for spiraling greed to grab one which his never belongs.
Fountain of knowledge with philosophical and imaginary umbrage
Be our true companion till to last day.
There is no god without knowledge,
There is nothing spiritual save contemplation deep
Embrace the noble book not of earthly issue
And sail to feast of eternal joys.
Joys what we understand in daily sense are quite temporal and transient
So the beauty of human or other,
What remains only true knowledge that we garner
In our granary on Apollos very name till our departure.
What the unread men takes away with them on final departure?


6
Internal darkness, internal pinning strain your very nerve,
Gobbling the tender heart which quivers like autumn grasses
Wherwithal being graced by sofest dews of pensive sense
Of parched aloofness in this spiritual barren world.
Rapid wants of near and dear, the murderous enjoyment of terror
On innocents, the hapless deprivation of poor by rulers and rich,
The occult indifference of beloved towards genuine love
Privy to misjudgement and misdemeneaour of blind countrymen
To immediate danger, the countless ignorance in and around
Pressing sensivities to be more internal and reticent.
There are eternal darkness resembling miltons dungeon
Not limited and confined to mysterious nights
Effecting the radiant sun in worse.
Effeminate citizens slighted by commonsense welcome the destroyers.
Poet, lonely soul nowhere to withdraw
Rotten in grave with unsung comrades.

7
What is the force of pyre that engulfed your father
With considerable knowledge of aesthetics
Burnt with crazy smoke within just forty minutes?
What is the indepthness of earthly grave
That ever silenced all the noble poets and Shakespear?
Earth is earth for mere consummation of mutual wants and greeds
Never escorting the genuine heart beyond the rumblings of troubles.
Sorrows innumerable with gracious forgetfulness
Saves us from epic tragedies.
Sleep is our rebirth with clarion call of passing morning birds
Retailing veil warning for another mundane day.
We embrace danger for dangerous sake
With little sense of pains
All our misadventures are daughters of stupidity.

8

What are after death, after our expiration?
Whither our souls loiter oh dear?
When we tabulate countless stars in never ending darkness?
Our silent or noisy departures followed by unnecessary cries of dear
Only haste our treading towards sun less night.
Oblivious soul never quires what are going on earth
Or has she moaned profusely before sun down.
We know owls of nocturnal genre will shrill our absence more and more
The heavenly full moon will never come across our familiar faces
Nor the joys of ordinary clan will ever greet us
We are now of nobody, nowhere to go
Save the darkling forest and vacant place around our home.
No consolation grace us or caressing soft hands of beloved
All are pour forth on eternal pyre of uncanny demonstration
Smoke of oblivion hovers around our dusty pictures.

9

What is true love? What ensure sober silence?
Indifference of beloved germinates pale faced youth numberless
Drive them to desperation of death.
Can it not be asked to our creator
Why the fair sexes are so incomplete and dilapidated?
Those who sail on fantasy and paratrooping peeping hunger
In insipid abode of charmless romantics
Never, never find answer of true meaning of love.
Those who resides fools paradise with bondage of marriage
Falsely imagining better half as a beloved
Which actually are Zeus thunder in guise of softness.
Silence which is another name of godliness
Ever evade its drear company in noisy earth
Is need of hour to all thinkers for creative paradise.
To be alone, forlorn be the heart and soul o sages of all ages.
Where shall we seek this pleasant silence?
In escaping dense forest or in high hill?
Whatever might be to be alone, a wish to be alone
From clamoring million fools be the eternal prayer to Lord.
10

What is study? What is its genuine utility?
To make us engage from utter loneliness on an around.
Black letters of noble origin germinates great thinking
With beaded spirituality and wideth heart.
Behold the commoners bereft of books
So shabby faced look in dark ignorance
Living deads in very shape of human appearance
Slave of all earthly emotion, no spiritual radiation
Run for spiraling greed to grab one which his never belongs.
Fountain of knowledge with philosophical and imaginary umbrage
Be our true companion till to last day.
There is no god without knowledge,
There is nothing spiritual save contemplation deep
Embrace the noble book not of earthly issue
And sail to feast of eternal joys.
Joys what we understand in daily sense are quite temporal and transient
So the beauty of human or other,
What remains only true knowledge that we garner
In our granary on Apollos very name till our departure.
What the unread men takes away with them on final departure?


6
Internal darkness, internal pinning strain your very nerve,
Gobbling the tender heart which quivers like autumn grasses
Wherwithal being graced by sofest dews of pensive sense
Of parched aloofness in this spiritual barren world.
Rapid wants of near and dear, the murderous enjoyment of terror
On innocents, the hapless deprivation of poor by rulers and rich,
The occult indifference of beloved towards genuine love
Privy to misjudgement and misdemeneaour of blind countrymen
To immediate danger, the countless ignorance in and around
Pressing sensivities to be more internal and reticent.
There are eternal darkness resembling miltons dungeon
Not limited and confined to mysterious nights
Effecting the radiant sun in worse.
Effeminate citizens slighted by commonsense welcome the destroyers.
Poet, lonely soul nowhere to withdraw
Rotten in grave with unsung comrades.

7
What is the force of pyre that engulfed your father
With considerable knowledge of aesthetics
Burnt with crazy smoke within just forty minutes?
What is the indepthness of earthly grave
That ever silenced all the noble poets and Shakespear?
Earth is earth for mere consummation of mutual wants and greeds
Never escorting the genuine heart beyond the rumblings of troubles.
Sorrows innumerable with gracious forgetfulness
Saves us from epic tragedies.
Sleep is our rebirth with clarion call of passing morning birds
Retailing veil warning for another mundane day.
We embrace danger for dangerous sake
With little sense of pains
All our misadventures are daughters of stupidity.

8

What are after death, after our expiration?
Whither our souls loiter oh dear?
When we tabulate countless stars in never ending darkness?
Our silent or noisy departures followed by unnecessary cries of dear
Only haste our treading towards sun less night.
Oblivious soul never quires what are going on earth
Or has she moaned profusely before sun down.
We know owls of nocturnal genre will shrill our absence more and more
The heavenly full moon will never come across our familiar faces
Nor the joys of ordinary clan will ever greet us
We are now of nobody, nowhere to go
Save the darkling forest and vacant place around our home.
No consolation grace us or caressing soft hands of beloved
All are pour forth on eternal pyre of uncanny demonstration
Smoke of oblivion hovers around our dusty pictures.

9

What is true love? What ensure sober silence?
Indifference of beloved germinates pale faced youth numberless
Drive them to desperation of death.
Can it not be asked to our creator
Why the fair sexes are so incomplete and dilapidated?
Those who sail on fantasy and paratrooping peeping hunger
In insipid abode of charmless romantics
Never, never find answer of true meaning of love.
Those who resides fools paradise with bondage of marriage
Falsely imagining better half as a beloved
Which actually are Zeus thunder in guise of softness.
Silence which is another name of godliness
Ever evade its drear company in noisy earth
Is need of hour to all thinkers for creative paradise.
To be alone, forlorn be the heart and soul o sages of all ages.
Where shall we seek this pleasant silence?
In escaping dense forest or in high hill?
Whatever might be to be alone, a wish to be alone
From clamoring million fools be the eternal prayer to Lord.
10

What is study? What is its genuine utility?
To make us engage from utter loneliness on an around.
Black letters of noble origin germinates great thinking
With beaded spirituality and wideth heart.
Behold the commoners bereft of books
So shabby faced look in dark ignorance
Living deads in very shape of human appearance
Slave of all earthly emotion, no spiritual radiation
Run for spiraling greed to grab one which his never belongs.
Fountain of knowledge with philosophical and imaginary umbrage
Be our true companion till to last day.
There is no god without knowledge,
There is nothing spiritual save contemplation deep
Embrace the noble book not of earthly issue
And sail to feast of eternal joys.
Joys what we understand in daily sense are quite temporal and transient
So the beauty of human or other,
What remains only true knowledge that we garner
In our granary on Apollos very name till our departure.
What the unread men takes away with them on final departure?


6
Internal darkness, internal pinning strain your very nerve,
Gobbling the tender heart which quivers like autumn grasses
Wherwithal being graced by sofest dews of pensive sense
Of parched aloofness in this spiritual barren world.
Rapid wants of near and dear, the murderous enjoyment of terror
On innocents, the hapless deprivation of poor by rulers and rich,
The occult indifference of beloved towards genuine love
Privy to misjudgement and misdemeneaour of blind countrymen
To immediate danger, the countless ignorance in and around
Pressing sensivities to be more internal and reticent.
There are eternal darkness resembling miltons dungeon
Not limited and confined to mysterious nights
Effecting the radiant sun in worse.
Effeminate citizens slighted by commonsense welcome the destroyers.
Poet, lonely soul nowhere to withdraw
Rotten in grave with unsung comrades.

7
What is the force of pyre that engulfed your father
With considerable knowledge of aesthetics
Burnt with crazy smoke within just forty minutes?
What is the indepthness of earthly grave
That ever silenced all the noble poets and Shakespear?
Earth is earth for mere consummation of mutual wants and greeds
Never escorting the genuine heart beyond the rumblings of troubles.
Sorrows innumerable with gracious forgetfulness
Saves us from epic tragedies.
Sleep is our rebirth with clarion call of passing morning birds
Retailing veil warning for another mundane day.
We embrace danger for dangerous sake
With little sense of pains
All our misadventures are daughters of stupidity.

8

What are after death, after our expiration?
Whither our souls loiter oh dear?
When we tabulate countless stars in never ending darkness?
Our silent or noisy departures followed by unnecessary cries of dear
Only haste our treading towards sun less night.
Oblivious soul never quires what are going on earth
Or has she moaned profusely before sun down.
We know owls of nocturnal genre will shrill our absence more and more
The heavenly full moon will never come across our familiar faces
Nor the joys of ordinary clan will ever greet us
We are now of nobody, nowhere to go
Save the darkling forest and vacant place around our home.
No consolation grace us or caressing soft hands of beloved
All are pour forth on eternal pyre of uncanny demonstration
Smoke of oblivion hovers around our dusty pictures.

9

What is true love? What ensure sober silence?
Indifference of beloved germinates pale faced youth numberless
Drive them to desperation of death.
Can it not be asked to our creator
Why the fair sexes are so incomplete and dilapidated?
Those who sail on fantasy and paratrooping peeping hunger
In insipid abode of charmless romantics
Never, never find answer of true meaning of love.
Those who resides fools paradise with bondage of marriage
Falsely imagining better half as a beloved
Which actually are Zeus thunder in guise of softness.
Silence which is another name of godliness
Ever evade its drear company in noisy earth
Is need of hour to all thinkers for creative paradise.
To be alone, forlorn be the heart and soul o sages of all ages.
Where shall we seek this pleasant silence?
In escaping dense forest or in high hill?
Whatever might be to be alone, a wish to be alone
From clamoring million fools be the eternal prayer to Lord.
10

What is study? What is its genuine utility?
To make us engage from utter loneliness on an around.
Black letters of noble origin germinates great thinking
With beaded spirituality and wideth heart.
Behold the commoners bereft of books
So shabby faced look in dark ignorance
Living deads in very shape of human appearance
Slave of all earthly emotion, no spiritual radiation
Run for spiraling greed to grab one which his never belongs.
Fountain of knowledge with philosophical and imaginary umbrage
Be our true companion till to last day.
There is no god without knowledge,
There is nothing spiritual save contemplation deep
Embrace the noble book not of earthly issue
And sail to feast of eternal joys.
Joys what we understand in daily sense are quite temporal and transient
So the beauty of human or other,
What remains only true knowledge that we garner
In our granary on Apollos very name till our departure.
What the unread men takes away with them on final departure?


6
Internal darkness, internal pinning strain your very nerve,
Gobbling the tender heart which quivers like autumn grasses
Wherwithal being graced by sofest dews of pensive sense
Of parched aloofness in this spiritual barren world.
Rapid wants of near and dear, the murderous enjoyment of terror
On innocents, the hapless deprivation of poor by rulers and rich,
The occult indifference of beloved towards genuine love
Privy to misjudgement and misdemeneaour of blind countrymen
To immediate danger, the countless ignorance in and around
Pressing sensivities to be more internal and reticent.
There are eternal darkness resembling miltons dungeon
Not limited and confined to mysterious nights
Effecting the radiant sun in worse.
Effeminate citizens slighted by commonsense welcome the destroyers.
Poet, lonely soul nowhere to withdraw
Rotten in grave with unsung comrades.

7
What is the force of pyre that engulfed your father
With considerable knowledge of aesthetics
Burnt with crazy smoke within just forty minutes?
What is the indepthness of earthly grave
That ever silenced all the noble poets and Shakespear?
Earth is earth for mere consummation of mutual wants and greeds
Never escorting the genuine heart beyond the rumblings of troubles.
Sorrows innumerable with gracious forgetfulness
Saves us from epic tragedies.
Sleep is our rebirth with clarion call of passing morning birds
Retailing veil warning for another mundane day.
We embrace danger for dangerous sake
With little sense of pains
All our misadventures are daughters of stupidity.

8

What are after death, after our expiration?
Whither our souls loiter oh dear?
When we tabulate countless stars in never ending darkness?
Our silent or noisy departures followed by unnecessary cries of dear
Only haste our treading towards sun less night.
Oblivious soul never quires what are going on earth
Or has she moaned profusely before sun down.
We know owls of nocturnal genre will shrill our absence more and more
The heavenly full moon will never come across our familiar faces
Nor the joys of ordinary clan will ever greet us
We are now of nobody, nowhere to go
Save the darkling forest and vacant place around our home.
No consolation grace us or caressing soft hands of beloved
All are pour forth on eternal pyre of uncanny demonstration
Smoke of oblivion hovers around our dusty pictures.

9

What is true love? What ensure sober silence?
Indifference of beloved germinates pale faced youth numberless
Drive them to desperation of death.
Can it not be asked to our creator
Why the fair sexes are so incomplete and dilapidated?
Those who sail on fantasy and paratrooping peeping hunger
In insipid abode of charmless romantics
Never, never find answer of true meaning of love.
Those who resides fools paradise with bondage of marriage
Falsely imagining better half as a beloved
Which actually are Zeus thunder in guise of softness.
Silence which is another name of godliness
Ever evade its drear company in noisy earth
Is need of hour to all thinkers for creative paradise.
To be alone, forlorn be the heart and soul o sages of all ages.
Where shall we seek this pleasant silence?
In escaping dense forest or in high hill?
Whatever might be to be alone, a wish to be alone
From clamoring million fools be the eternal prayer to Lord.
10

What is study? What is its genuine utility?
To make us engage from utter loneliness on an around.
Black letters of noble origin germinates great thinking
With beaded spirituality and wideth heart.
Behold the commoners bereft of books
So shabby faced look in dark ignorance
Living deads in very shape of human appearance
Slave of all earthly emotion, no spiritual radiation
Run for spiraling greed to grab one which his never belongs.
Fountain of knowledge with philosophical and imaginary umbrage
Be our true companion till to last day.
There is no god without knowledge,
There is nothing spiritual save contemplation deep
Embrace the noble book not of earthly issue
And sail to feast of eternal joys.
Joys what we understand in daily sense are quite temporal and transient
So the beauty of human or other,
What remains only true knowledge that we garner
In our granary on Apollos very name till our departure.
What the unread men takes away with them on final departure?


6
Internal darkness, internal pinning strain your very nerve,
Gobbling the tender heart which quivers like autumn grasses
Wherwithal being graced by sofest dews of pensive sense
Of parched aloofness in this spiritual barren world.
Rapid wants of near and dear, the murderous enjoyment of terror
On innocents, the hapless deprivation of poor by rulers and rich,
The occult indifference of beloved towards genuine love
Privy to misjudgement and misdemeneaour of blind countrymen
To immediate danger, the countless ignorance in and around
Pressing sensivities to be more internal and reticent.
There are eternal darkness resembling miltons dungeon
Not limited and confined to mysterious nights
Effecting the radiant sun in worse.
Effeminate citizens slighted by commonsense welcome the destroyers.
Poet, lonely soul nowhere to withdraw
Rotten in grave with unsung comrades.

7
What is the force of pyre that engulfed your father
With considerable knowledge of aesthetics
Burnt with crazy smoke within just forty minutes?
What is the indepthness of earthly grave
That ever silenced all the noble poets and Shakespear?
Earth is earth for mere consummation of mutual wants and greeds
Never escorting the genuine heart beyond the rumblings of troubles.
Sorrows innumerable with gracious forgetfulness
Saves us from epic tragedies.
Sleep is our rebirth with clarion call of passing morning birds
Retailing veil warning for another mundane day.
We embrace danger for dangerous sake
With little sense of pains
All our misadventures are daughters of stupidity.

8

What are after death, after our expiration?
Whither our souls loiter oh dear?
When we tabulate countless stars in never ending darkness?
Our silent or noisy departures followed by unnecessary cries of dear
Only haste our treading towards sun less night.
Oblivious soul never quires what are going on earth
Or has she moaned profusely before sun down.
We know owls of nocturnal genre will shrill our absence more and more
The heavenly full moon will never come across our familiar faces
Nor the joys of ordinary clan will ever greet us
We are now of nobody, nowhere to go
Save the darkling forest and vacant place around our home.
No consolation grace us or caressing soft hands of beloved
All are pour forth on eternal pyre of uncanny demonstration
Smoke of oblivion hovers around our dusty pictures.

9

What is true love? What ensure sober silence?
Indifference of beloved germinates pale faced youth numberless
Drive them to desperation of death.
Can it not be asked to our creator
Why the fair sexes are so incomplete and dilapidated?
Those who sail on fantasy and paratrooping peeping hunger
In insipid abode of charmless romantics
Never, never find answer of true meaning of love.
Those who resides fools paradise with bondage of marriage
Falsely imagining better half as a beloved
Which actually are Zeus thunder in guise of softness.
Silence which is another name of godliness
Ever evade its drear company in noisy earth
Is need of hour to all thinkers for creative paradise.
To be alone, forlorn be the heart and soul o sages of all ages.
Where shall we seek this pleasant silence?
In escaping dense forest or in high hill?
Whatever might be to be alone, a wish to be alone
From clamoring million fools be the eternal prayer to Lord.
10

What is study? What is its genuine utility?
To make us engage from utter loneliness on an around.
Black letters of noble origin germinates great thinking
With beaded spirituality and wideth heart.
Behold the commoners bereft of books
So shabby faced look in dark ignorance
Living deads in very shape of human appearance
Slave of all earthly emotion, no spiritual radiation
Run for spiraling greed to grab one which his never belongs.
Fountain of knowledge with philosophical and imaginary umbrage
Be our true companion till to last day.
There is no god without knowledge,
There is nothing spiritual save contemplation deep
Embrace the noble book not of earthly issue
And sail to feast of eternal joys.
Joys what we understand in daily sense are quite temporal and transient
So the beauty of human or other,
What remains only true knowledge that we garner
In our granary on Apollos very name till our departure.
What the unread men takes away with them on final departure?



6
Internal darkness, internal pinning strain your very nerve,
Gobbling the tender heart which quivers like autumn grasses
Wherwithal being graced by sofest dews of pensive sense
Of parched aloofness in this spiritual barren world.
Rapid wants of near and dear, the murderous enjoyment of terror
On innocents, the hapless deprivation of poor by rulers and rich,
The occult indifference of beloved towards genuine love
Privy to misjudgement and misdemeneaour of blind countrymen
To immediate danger, the countless ignorance in and around
Pressing sensivities to be more internal and reticent.
There are eternal darkness resembling miltons dungeon
Not limited and confined to mysterious nights
Effecting the radiant sun in worse.
Effeminate citizens slighted by commonsense welcome the destroyers.
Poet, lonely soul nowhere to withdraw
Rotten in grave with unsung comrades.

7
What is the force of pyre that engulfed your father
With considerable knowledge of aesthetics
Burnt with crazy smoke within just forty minutes?
What is the indepthness of earthly grave
That ever silenced all the noble poets and Shakespear?
Earth is earth for mere consummation of mutual wants and greeds
Never escorting the genuine heart beyond the rumblings of troubles.
Sorrows innumerable with gracious forgetfulness
Saves us from epic tragedies.
Sleep is our rebirth with clarion call of passing morning birds
Retailing veil warning for another mundane day.
We embrace danger for dangerous sake
With little sense of pains
All our misadventures are daughters of stupidity.

8

What are after death, after our expiration?
Whither our souls loiter oh dear?
When we tabulate countless stars in never ending darkness?
Our silent or noisy departures followed by unnecessary cries of dear
Only haste our treading towards sun less night.
Oblivious soul never quires what are going on earth
Or has she moaned profusely before sun down.
We know owls of nocturnal genre will shrill our absence more and more
The heavenly full moon will never come across our familiar faces
Nor the joys of ordinary clan will ever greet us
We are now of nobody, nowhere to go
Save the darkling forest and vacant place around our home.
No consolation grace us or caressing soft hands of beloved
All are pour forth on eternal pyre of uncanny demonstration
Smoke of oblivion hovers around our dusty pictures.

9

What is true love? What ensure sober silence?
Indifference of beloved germinates pale faced youth numberless
Drive them to desperation of death.
Can it not be asked to our creator
Why the fair sexes are so incomplete and dilapidated?
Those who sail on fantasy and paratrooping peeping hunger
In insipid abode of charmless romantics
Never, never find answer of true meaning of love.
Those who resides fools paradise with bondage of marriage
Falsely imagining better half as a beloved
Which actually are Zeus thunder in guise of softness.
Silence which is another name of godliness
Ever evade its drear company in noisy earth
Is need of hour to all thinkers for creative paradise.
To be alone, forlorn be the heart and soul o sages of all ages.
Where shall we seek this pleasant silence?
In escaping dense forest or in high hill?
Whatever might be to be alone, a wish to be alone
From clamoring million fools be the eternal prayer to Lord.
10

What is study? What is its genuine utility?
To make us engage from utter loneliness on an around.
Black letters of noble origin germinates great thinking
With beaded spirituality and wideth heart.
Behold the commoners bereft of books
So shabby faced look in dark ignorance
Living deads in very shape of human appearance
Slave of all earthly emotion, no spiritual radiation
Run for spiraling greed to grab one which his never belongs.
Fountain of knowledge with philosophical and imaginary umbrage
Be our true companion till to last day.
There is no god without knowledge,
There is nothing spiritual save contemplation deep
Embrace the noble book not of earthly issue
And sail to feast of eternal joys.
Joys what we understand in daily sense are quite temporal and transient
So the beauty of human or other,
What remains only true knowledge that we garner
In our granary on Apollos very name till our departure.
What the unread men takes away with them on final departure?