Life
What is life for me?
Which is an absurd journey for me,
From cradle to cubicle to casket,
I know that i am in utter slavery,
I am the pied piper of mine,
When my emotions are floating like a bubble,
And waiting for the drizzle to get it crashed,
Then i would like to fly away from,
My slavery to the unknown temple of pilgrimage,
Like the phoenix bird rose up from the ash,
And flown away to the freedom of ecstasy.
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