When you sight your frame,
You see blossoms and the holy grail,
The musing tamed,
Where the terms of beauty may exhale.

Its arduous to believe,
What fate has trawled you along,
Until you heave,
That"s when you prolong,

Prolong all the utterance made,
But then you say no to the notion,
It's hard to bare yourself afraid,
Though, little did you know that letting go would be your relegate and believing in the geniune and the beauty of your soma breaks the demotion.