O thy majesty, may thou bloom,
Or shall I lighten your presence with the gentle moon?
I shan't bear the wrath as your face hardens,
Punish me thy grace or let me be pardoned.
Thou crush my heart, humble and fragile,
Perhaps this is one of the wonders inflicted by thy smile.
Don't be intrigued by my flabbergasted sense,
Inception and induction may have diminished my stance.
Like those memories of thee I cherish,
I pray thine happiness flourish and sorrows perish.
If you can't love me, try not to hate me,
If you can't live with me, try not to abrogate me.
Is it thine love the cause for I am lulled,
Or art these mine impetutous fantasies by virtue of which I am pulled?
Mine impoverished self is laved by thy fathomless beauty,
Or whence art these quiverings coming from?
Rather this is mine sepulcher's treaty.
May be slushes hung down before a storm.
Why do I pant, as my inners tumult?
Art thine hues so impalpable?
That this be the abhorence before I am set up on thy grace's catapult,
Privileged to know my monochromatic chasms aren't worth smothering, thine callous to unlovable.
If you can't love me, try not to hate me,
If you can't live with me, try not to abrogate me...
Written By : Atul Shrotriya
