My heart, not a market,
Yet sings with wings of sonnet;
Breaking the silence of the morn!
I enter to purchase the glory, and gone lorn;
Which is to be witnessed,
O I need peace, cried a child;
Then I entered into an ashram of asslyum!
Where I cried not, sat to sate my love of abyss realm;
Atlast in the corner of my life,
With empty hand, I blessed the blazed Lord;
Who dowers all, fill my will, and tell me to spell,
With withal! I hail thy glory... will dwell in all, and all will be well.
Copyright . 2006 N.KARTHIKEYAN OSHO