A Peculiar Life

A Peculiar Life Nothing is miracle to me Clock doesn’t belong to me I’m always on my chime Who made diurnal and nocturnal? You or your forefathers? Or, progenitors or those stars and planets? Who, why and where, begin and vanish? As a bubble in the ocean upon my womb All are my sons, I belong to them. Atoms are overwhelming Not considering foreign objects. Seeing its promulgation, time turns neck No rule, no law, no compassion, or A flow of infinite fragrance, always. No starts’ alert, nor bother of tedious A course of action never towards ends. Opposition’s uproars as if in next term Need of evacuees or thoughts of demises. Neither commences, nor courtesy Speed, a course in the path of faith. Always desolated, a effect of consciousness Only winning event there seems in realm, always. Time does have a peculiar life, a belief always.