The Land of Poetry



Yes,

 There is an otherworldly terrain,
It has many seasons,
Rhymes, songs and perpetual verses' rains,

 I envision,
A colossal tendrilled gate,
Beyond the lines of which,
Endures no destiny, and no fate,

 As you'd step inside,
those blossomed bounds,
the skies are wider than ever,
and cordial are those Odic grounds,

 Love, adorations are worthless there,
All that persists, is poetic presence,
It is no slave to pledges and swears,
It's a dive into the sea of, idyllic fragrance.......

 (c) S.S

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