When we lose something

What becomes of a shell

that loses its pearl

a shell that is a shelter

always there to shield

until the pearl is youth

And on its ardent face

seven colors gleam

what consoles the shell?

Once the pearl is gone

plucked away at once

from its warm embrace?

The insolence of fate?

Or the absurdity of nature?

Or an unspoken promise,

that the pearl shall one day grace

Lavish Crowns of kings

and lush attires of maids

What consoles the shell?

A thought of a new beginning?

Or a dream of better days?

Guarantees of bounties

or lands of golden rays

 

What consoles the shell, 

Is a nod from deep within

Between the mind and heart

A mute accord between

All that what was done 

And all that could have been

 


 

Arqum

25/11/2015

(152)

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