Hurried

Scuttled ideas unsettle the words

Through haphazard and unrestrained sentences

In scattered ink, blemishes cloak them in weirdness

Wiry sentences chained in distorted girdles

There’s no scope of curious eyes getting to close to their meaning

Lucky, not to be surprised by their wayward patterns

Such chimaeras are conceived in some convoluted world

Which may not even come from an ovular reality

Of life, which resonates with the celestial energies

~Amitav

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