In isolation I pen down the thoughts in me,

Poor in all,with nothing fairly tangible to give,

Until life unties her thickfold as it ought to be,

and told me of the beauty that ever man deceive...

We seek endlessly for companions,

Who in turn,treat us like Onions;

the sea to be saved for another day,

All flows out through a single way,in a
single day.

All my thoughts in new strength clothed,

for it has gone astray,but with time redeemed;

For my heart was once to folly bethrothed,

But now,Light all darkness to me seem.

Companionship is ideally a good Call,
but when it chameleoned and turn sour;
It replicate to be an injurious and deadly fall,
and for that,a man's way is severely torn.

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