Till Five

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Till five the eyes are closed

Before that it is open 

Open till each circle

The stick makes,

But sometime the eye fakes,

And shakes, takes rest,

Sometime the body takes,

A heap of lovely baked cakes,

But sometime the brain just makes,

Unusual stuffs that just bluffs,

Sometime the whole being feels like a Parvenu

Placed, attached, glued

In a very wrong venue,

But all the time, through out past, present and future…

The venue was self chosen,

The venue is right since the beginning

So many lives it is sustaining

And the question arises…

Now, the self not chosen or imposed,

The venue and the self not proportional…

Both are negtively un-dimensional

Suddenly, it is Five thirty…

The eyes are open,

The venue and the self disappeared,

Then, I wake up accepting there is not a single thing to be feared!

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About BHavEEka

It was one sunny day when I came, it was one rainy day when I grew, It was one cloudy day when I wrote, It was one painful day when I cried, It was one happy day when I smiled, It was one lovely day when I was in love, It was one good day when I was a sister, It was one proud day when I was a Daughter, It was one lucky day when I lived, It was just one serene life, As it continues to strike me like a knife, Each moment I resume to live it... Each second I Close my eyes and Believe in it!

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