In the unknown distant future,
when the lamps are burning low,
a light will emerge from the dark
and draw us towards its glow.
Such would be its purity
and wondrous magnificence,
that just like moths of light
we would choose obsolescence.
We won't know its end,
nor would we see its origin;
without a slightest care
we would jump right in.
We would joyously celebrate
by unbridled singin' and dancin',
when we realize that the light without
is really a resplendent glow within.
3 comments:
Kamlesh great poem
great poem Kamlesh
Very good poem kamlesh
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