SONNET 214
By JH Sayyar
What life is; a churchyard dome,
Dying wills’ echoes echo in it ever,
Like poor ghosts live in the tomb,
Life sweet but luck glees devour,
Life a tussle between good and bad,
No life really in the love a whore
More you love, more you are glad,
As fish in water of a pebbled shore
Life a thought; the thought not dies,
The stars give us light; rule our soul,
By an unseen thread that glorifies,
Our life thread constitutes our goal.
Life: A name of thought is storing:
In a micro world with it I am boring
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