_Tendrils of drowsy pleasure entice and hypnotise,
As daybreak storms; a rapturous collision,
Of distorted cadences and scintillating harmonies,
Between discarded blue-sky sheets._

annh

Rhapsody In Blue

The sun doesn't revolve around us,
And it was known to the ancient Hindus.

How they estimated precise distances,
It's still an exclusive paradigm of sorts.

This poem is not a nursery rhyme,
For it discusses what went wrong.

Wrong with the history of Hindus,
And with the tapestry of the world.

Hanging down the global gazebos,
Is a wonderful story of lost wisdom.