The crust of earth
emanates the birth
of all life and soul,
bereft of any greed or goal.

Now, the mirror s’ face
focal for every phase.
For all black and gold,
for every living mould.

And the entity s’ heart,
where the impressions start.
Whether told or untold,
ardour is seen in every fold.

what magic these elements have?
they hide no quest or splendor
what’s in the crest
comes out and grows tender.

The rasonant seed,
comes bare by creep.

Virgin face or rancid with wrinkles,
the reflection has a steady pace
never conceal or twinkle.

When in love or gloom,
the heart runs its loom
the beat never stops,
the visage shows the passionate hops.

Every Surface has a core,
longing to echo more.
That s’ how the life works,
never let the surface lurk!




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