Generic selectors
Exact matches only
Search in title
Search in content
Time

VITHURA. V. ASOK (Time Contest | Epoch Ranter Award )

You call it TIME,, but to me golden shore,
Each second, a sand-grain each.
Picking them one by one, my labour,
Soaking with tears and melting with toil,
A gorgeous mansion,here I build.
You call it LIFE, but to fate a funny toy
To be washed away by the callous waves.
This riverbed, this desert, this golden shore.

Each wind sprinkles the tiny sand-grains,
But my children running, playing and sleeping.
You call them dreams, mirage ! or marvel !
They hurrah, never yield to your interpretations.
The wheels of that dark chariot, can never crush.
This bliss, this shore,this sands of joyful grains.
For, they, glued with my unquenchable thirst.

How useful was this post?

Click on a star to rate it!

Average rating 0 / 5. Vote count: 0

No votes so far! Be the first to rate this post.

0

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published.

You may use these HTML tags and attributes:

<a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <s> <strike> <strong>

×

Hello!

Click on our representatives below to chat on WhatsApp or send us an email to ubi.unitedbyink@gmail.com

× How can I help you?