Omega of existence

I decline to admit the possibility of love  in a new season

as the case of form in the world could be

like the form of mother who never struggles with the baby

He is like her own self

there is no bitterness attached here to see any case

of all the riches of the world are insufficient to feed the baby

there is a silent way about love, never trust the stranger

our all the ways of luck have befallen

with the ways of the world

I am in the end is bitter at the meaning

a few words having fallen in gasps for work

and more work has come to pass by

neither indulging nor rebuking

I am impartial to the world.

 

 

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