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At Last

1 vote, average: 4.00 out of 51 vote, average: 4.00 out of 51 vote, average: 4.00 out of 51 vote, average: 4.00 out of 51 vote, average: 4.00 out of 5
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At last
The Voices died
The outer ones that intrude
With a confidence ,that being rude
Is a balm.
Like blaring horns in an endless traffic jam
And worse than that….
The Inner chat-
Omnipresent,in all states
of Waking, Sleeping and Dreaming.
From each mask, a different being
One by one……they subside
A silence.
Like never before
Bringing with it, a cure
To unbidden illnesses and deep ravages
A new presence or absence?
A sea without waves
A body in its grave
Whatever it is……
A deep perfume from within
Rises to the fore
Released from the core
And a master symphony
With notes of silence
Bubbles up.

2 Comments

  1. Vishvnand says:

    An elegant classic muse
    is this poem & what it pursues
    “Whatever it is……
    A deep perfume from within
    Rises to the fore”

    Hearty commends

  2. P4PoetryP4Praveen says:

    Firstly, welcome back to P4P after almost a year… 🙂

    And congrats for this deep meaningful creation.

    You are here At Last.

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