The Glass Paperweight
An old chipped off glass paper weight,
Scaling its orbit, revolving like earth.
Replica of some inert crystallized tear drop,
Long lost memories of insatiable dreams.
Million bubbles trapped in, so near yet so far,
Some covered infinity yet separated by an inch.
Portraying thousand reflections of some deception,
Patterns emerging like our rampant chaos or reality.
Some try to breathe, some slowly losing hope,
Staying put, they too are prisoners of destiny.
Too alive to be dead, self indulgent icons,
There isolation seeks no mercy, no remorse.
Perhaps this is their baptism of glass and fire,
With no Christmas carols nor summer songs.
Slumber so deep, cant wake from this illusion,
Colors changing as from dawn to dusk.
I admire these tiny slaves inside,
Since centuries they are trying to creep,
Like insomnia prevail as we try to sleep.
Sonnet by Sarvesh
Read 1009 times
Written on 2007-07-04 at 20:48
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