To thee I write, hasn't changed the world.
Mistaking the curse for the boon till now.
Arisen from within he dies.
To the chains of ghost enslaved, as ever.
He dwells still without a noise.
To the sinfulness he worships and to the dirt he prays.
Disgracing the light within. For thou are his source.
Sits in silence the world.
For you are me and I am you.


© RV Patil

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