The acts of superficiality become a formidable cage after some time
Tightly wound in a convoluted pattern
The wired patterns strangle the real essence
Immense effort of the toiling minds behind the deeds
Time, twisted and forced to a grotesque meaning, crooks reality
Delicate senses just evaporate like the fine fragrance
Unable to bear the cunning dilemma between life and utter vanity
Split images, reflections off the finely-crafted crystals are still awry
One cannot fathom the staleness of the perfumes- a tale of perfumers compositions in an uneven order
A little drop of customisation does satisfy the flippancy
Losing the true essence and sublimity in a tale that is narrated frivolously
~Amitav
