It’s the clear ambience,
where you can penetrate through your presence.
World of lone,
Unravels the stringent charade,
To read the unclad truth,
hidden under the ash of impersonate.
How long do you wear??,
without knowing your authentic fame.
Wake up your mind to see through,
when you are in place which is confined only to you.
Fakes are cursory,
strips off when they are weary.
Unbearable torment,
when soul is stripped off in mid of market.
It’s just not a reflection,
wholly soul in its perceptible complexion.
And it’s not a perplexing hue,
When you look through to be efficacious in knowing you.
Nail the traits, correct the mistakes of your inner soul,
instead of fitting in to interim veil.
Perpetual change is placid,
on sweeping the fakeness in us from deep-seated.
Asmitha 