By Anirudh Venkatesh
Bones turn to coal or a heap of ashes,
But memories grow fresher in our hearts.
Deep in our conscience are scars and gashes
Brought upon by the stabs of wrongdoing’s darts.
Sublime questions pour down into our minds
And are heated on the fire of reason.
As each answer vapourises, it binds
Our moist thoughts to betrayal and treason.
Doubt plays its role on an uncertain stage,
Creating a confusing masterpiece.
Anger, ironically, plays a sage-
Silent, in deep thought, with mistrust-his niece.
Splitting up the mind in numerous ways,
Doubt is unable to harm hearts of love.
The purity of our untouched souls, says:
“Follow the path to yourself, and above.”
