& as you shade me with relief from scorching rays I bask in your benevolence, For you are a creation of infinite cycles, A manifestation of life itself, An essence of soul's past, A recollection of karmic accounts, My friendly companion.
Aged, wrinkled and worn Our Palms of fortune and destiny Show tracks leading to new places Playing out the timeline of our lives Like a show - a Chorus Line The queues will flock for the matinee And so this poetical line ends.
a cradle of completion; my rubik's cube slowly becomes faded of colors, frayed of stickers, as a twisting time renders it subtle and scrambled, but unendingly unsolvable —my meaning left muddled on the palms of life
muddled on the palms of life —my meaning left unendingly unsolvable, subtle and scrambled, but as a twisting time renders it faded of colors, frayed of stickers, my rubik's cube slowly becomes a cradle of completion;
a ritual warrants retribution to hale to connive this practice midst a dire sequence reserved for her to comprehend misgiving with era of hot democracy through she is this strawberry daiquiri but amid rattan.