The Know
I dread thee soul.
The bold it rows,
Perchance, A mistake.
I see yee soul.
The form it takes,
It appears to be...of a lake.
A lake to all, that i endow,
To all of which, that i do wish.
Maybe you are...indeed,
For me the lake.
For i know yee soul,
The woo's it gives,
Its epistemology,
Knitting me,
Making me, myself...
Copyright © Srveer Bhati | Year Posted 2024
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