The Creator lied assured with Rest,
Cover'd His insecurity.
Consol'd himself with Love's purity!!

But couldn't ignore His own sanity.
An Angelic voice had a fly,
What's love without Promise!
Even the long meditative hour
Failed to reply.

Blessed be every soul, soaked in love
With a pie-eye of a promise
Which flows eternally from thou to mine premise.

Then He dropped nectar, a valuable dime...
'A rare extracted promise of thine'.
© Amrita Chandan