Split the moment into hundred
And take one among them
Build a bridge across the life,
Slimmer than the hair
That is divided into hundred
Place a needle on top of it,
Of coincidence, unexpectedness,
Of impuissance, selfishness, or
Of anything…
And now,
The fate would be arriving
As an uninvited guest
It would perform a dance
On the edge of the needle
Not just a dance,
A dance of devastation,
And the destruction
Would be occurring
Underneath the bridge
It will become topsy-turvy
The least expected would be
A huge displacement of things.
By Ismail Meladi
No comments:
Post a Comment