Broken Pieces

On a solicitous pinnacle of a mystery

where boundaries are drawn

amid fearsome retreats

Why not accept the evidence of my eyes ?

Maybe a little smile, a word to cheer 

Or should man always wallow in a deep swell

And later be made to accept the pieces of the whole

within a christened piazza,

humanity once called home ?



Turning out and about

the locus and fulcrum of our mantles

Maybe a little squint to bliss,

should be enough

As imageries of deserted pieces of trust,

lie asunder

like orphans or perhaps in modern retrospect

as fallen idols



When deliberate missions falter,

consensus shall be of importance

To forfend brimming tensions

So let these broken pieces be amalgamated

on impartial grounds

And be made in unison

Within the caresses of heavenly hands



While every way,

leads to home

Just like on a Christmas’ eve

As reality accepts the evidence of my eyes


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