about love

who holds love as their work,
who can ever own love,even quark
smaller?the infinite energy
which blows through universe,
is a veracious power,which
falls to the maya of love.
illusion covers the love,
which is present as a venom
in all,the progenies of the infinity.
the transformation one faces,
when hit by a arrow,
one which sends phantasmagoria
of euphoria and nostalgia,
is an illusion which turns real.
when lost in a sea,you become
a sojourn treasure,even if
you are a manifestation of
ever-infinity.while the self
seeks infinity,the hate-love,
love-hate of light illusive
penetrates one and draws
one into the mystic love.
if not for love,if not
for ecstasy,there will never be
a race,but only a single face.
yet love is the power
we all need,for its energy,
which shows pain and threads
us to mortal relations is
the pinnacle suit for realisation,
as mortal duties are experience
which are needed for renouncement.

love is constant,
love is infinite,
all of us own it,
none of us own it,
something owns it,
all of us are everything,
all of us are something,
all of us are nothing,
in the end it began
in infinity
and shall rest in infinity.

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losing mortality

oneday suddenly everyone will cry,
without words to match,we will die.
that day before death,
we all will reflect,
what we did,
in the life we were given,
what we did,
with the power of living.

at the hands of death,
where physical amortization
takes place,where our dirt
of manners becomes innuendo,
we all will think of what we did.

but as we live,
every second we give,
every second,
we save,we kill.
in all we try to fill
yet never listen to silence.

when we listen,
we learn,
we yearn,
we earn,
we beckon,
we understand,
and death becomes
a mere transition.

mortality is lost,
when sense of reality is found.