SELF, UNFURLING. (An Original Poetry)
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Before our very eyes,
it will happen!
and we shall stand spectator!
bearing witness
to the tearing tide!
the ripening of the moon
that gives grizzly shadows
to contorted shadows
on the eve of showers!
Like a sequel,
this tape shall roll,
as life's bell will toll
it will chime repeatedly,
like the warning voices
leading us off miry lane
away from ignorance
like a voice,
lost in the mist
Our names shall be etched,
like runes,
running rigidly in veins
and the ears will stand,
astounded in awe,
laughter ceased amidst chatter,
a contemplating,
of whether to smile or cry
We shall stand evolved,
like transformed beings,
fading through,
but blinking anew,
like the morning beams
on sleeping tulips
a reflection of beauty
with no comparison
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