Difluoroethane
The neat shelf of being,
sordid rows of books,
categories,
yet,
the inspected self
is blown away,
books flung by
destructive hands...
fearing decay.
Shall I know,
Shall I seek,
till my dying day?
Divine orchestra,
seeing boddhisatva,
how do you deal,
judging your nirvana?
Copyright © Ph.D Volo Von Wolfenstein | Year Posted 2012
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