Your life is a soul
Betwix two windows;
The suns and the shadows...
But at the elapse of it all,
You are to pip in both;
Though much deception by the suns.
Oft a times, you mop
The soon rotting floor,
And you paint like peacocks.
You build concrete walls,
Expensive wooden over coats
And diamond-like rooftops.
What for when the flesh-whole cries still?