A seed is sown,
It has lots of creation
inside;
So what is in this world outside?
What can restrain it destined to be grown?
It may not be noted;
But it is always there
Changing every time there
Fighting and living unknown;
Come storm, come rain,
Boldly it has faced a lot,
Wildly it has changed a lot,
Grown big, so is its pain,
So wide is its shade
And wider goes its perfume,
Not so much to make a soul presume
A creation is perfectly made.
Unknown, unloved and unadorned,
Unsung the creation has its destruction inside
So what is in this world outside?
What can restrain it now destined to be destroyed?
It may not be noted
But it is always there
Changing every time there
Fighting and dying unknown;
Come storm, come rain,
Disintegrate each and every piece,
Cremate each and every piece,
There is nothing now to gain,
Gone forever is the shade,
Gone forever is the perfume,
Gone so far away to make a soul presume
There has never been
a creation perfectly made.Read my other Poems
