The Illusionist
The Illusionist
Dwelling in the tangled labyrinth is the rover,
In the realm of time and space an eternal wanderer,
The inventor of innumerable creators,
Having the shape of their creators
And codes of life, mutable always,
Suiting the beastly humane ways.
Where the hell
is the hell?
In the abyss like well
with corpses' smell
Or the complex nerve cell
Where all evils dwell.
To once reach heaven
Never do those seven.
The heaven and those seven,
Mere cookies baked in his oven.
How did the imaginary lines that divide
Relatives, contingent on where they abide
And twenty-four and sixty slices
Of the earth's spin come to life?
After this grand illusion
He too started living in delusion.
Dwelling in the tangled labyrinth is the rover,
In the realm of time and space an eternal wanderer,
The inventor of innumerable creators,
Having the shape of their creators
And codes of life, mutable always,
Suiting the beastly humane ways.
Where the hell
is the hell?
In the abyss like well
with corpses' smell
Or the complex nerve cell
Where all evils dwell.
To once reach heaven
Never do those seven.
The heaven and those seven,
Mere cookies baked in his oven.
How did the imaginary lines that divide
Relatives, contingent on where they abide
And twenty-four and sixty slices
Of the earth's spin come to life?
After this grand illusion
He too started living in delusion.
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ReplyDelete👌👌
ReplyDeleteDear Littu, very good rhyming lines.
ReplyDeleteMeaningful. Keep writing.
Wish you all the best.