In influx of the moment I give up,

The essence of flower,

To smother myself with your love holdup,

That is beseeching me to follow you higher,


Than nothing more but the dates of calendar,

Reminding me you were born decades ago,

What was there before you? any avatar,

Is no consideration of my ego,


It was mere a flutter of History pages,

That now I tell you the kind I adore,

The loveless and the loved betrothed to sages,

To the single deity that God is one in my heart I bore,


Do I look away when you talk?

Maybe sometimes when the noon his high,

And my parched lips wait for water than your lips smooched,

It is again a History lesson to discover nigh,


Troy was won not by Achilles heal but the labor,

Of love that could not be defied anywhere on the earth,

But God’s wrath if is known to you, consider,

Kindly tugging on my side and I will play James Dean’s worth,


For the song of the day.


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