Is beauty worth treasury?
I pondered for a moment again,
As I stood by the window,
Fondling the silver drops of rain.
One might embrace for beauty,
While beast for other,
Former endears without cause,
And, the latter denies to bother.
Chic rose that blossoms,
Captivating the hearts coming here,
While rationalists go accusing,
At the thorns, out of acute fear.
On a hot summer day,
Banyan being a prompt cure,
While dominates the faith blind,
That tree’s haunted, for sure.
Tall grasses in north-east,
Adorned by galleries and mills,
Menace of desperate invaders,
Who raid through cleavages of hills.
When admired, it’s beauty soars,
But, gets rusted and mundane,
At the hilt of hyperbole,
The element perishes in vain.
Visage is merely an illusion,
Enchanting the spectators’ eye,
Cropping hopes in land of realms,
Deceiving it’s state is a crude lie.
Thus, deliberations stretch further,
Testimony defined by course of duty,
A patriot gets crowned, I reckowned,
As the Harbinger of beauty.
Beauty is tethered in chains of discrimination. What beholds exuberance for one might not be the same for other. Miracle is for those souls who find depth in every little thing witnessed.
Painting credits: Abhisek Pani
Thanks for patience.