Unbaked flabby chunks of dough,
With loosely sprawled fine powder,
Molded into round lumps of bulky wheatmeal,
An unyielding deodorant in its primitive form,
Studded with minute recesses clinging to its body,
Awaiting hybrid flames from unburnt firewood,
To nurture it into a ripened swell of burnt complexion,
Compactly stitched at all sections,
With threads of natural glue,
Compressed into delicious sandwiched bread,
Sewn in perfect co-ordination,
With progressively low rising engulfing fusion,
Emanating from the tiny apertures of gas burner,
Enriching and finally deserting it as a
victorious fragment of Consumption
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