What is TRUTH?

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Memoir  |  House: Booksie Classic

This work is a depiction you will complete in your pursuit of truth. Many have travelers in those path where wind turns down icy storms yet one among few races this edge without limitless contribution. It is just a starting of few days ahead where your vest is one vision beyond time. Thanks for reading. :)


When you can see others in those happiness rebound in the draft of time,

Can you herd across one shepherd who went away in search of lost lamb?

On effloresce model one vessel of time masters compete edition of history laid on its doubt stretching branches,

Those rack of human passion lives one truth sicken over hovering floating bookshelf behind curtain sky limits,

As edict wagon mount over their dim eyelid where shadow light swim new opening build blocks daily,

This base boats take with them on a travel as sailor on the path free from locket where rails open up as Pandora's box,

When you sharpen doing good as irrigating your garden with everything that springs up nothing in the brimful days of a flower,

Will challenger sanctify birth like another pure man reborn in your precincts?

Where clothes you leave behind turns down as sweat hog inside a golden rule sadly noted for its wholeness your thoughts envision so pure as seem,

Everything that wakes up real along one path in pursuit of search of its origin for life as descript particles of a race course,

Along this wheel of existence unusual as many in one of the master market trade what remains ever,

One such supreme existence cloud pounds on language far found in space loosely as flow perishes,

In human language the truth is a mirage over resemblances of character for forms that remain and made up of colorless dilutions,

Every soul existed for this source empty orientation like the worker who get inspired speech of one orator within,

Can one get lost for gestures counting roles mankind plays never neglecting in this land for bladeless base of stars in the heaven,

They hover soil covering secret of desert twinkling in the sky made of fading sands for the work your heart never gave up,

Something disappear each moment framing where our handover remains outside following streams joyfully,

Is this so called luxury our virtue renames ore remains for material extinct?

This vehicle has a keyboard where someone plays rhyme for we need watching our steps as longing for overlooking what we see as our life,

Another arena in the midst of this table full of orchestra where you need to come out of your ignorance,

In this red market darkness color of its resorts has many coin in its form where you need those wings fly towards rising sunshine away from ego of greed, hate and crimes leading towards righteousness,

They represent those truth our suits carry gestures in these days ahead for more greater than all joy reaching awake for a path beyond way,

Who belong nowhere follows like shade and these trade our simplicity of truth for whose stillness does right, follows teaching  pure towards freedom and free for patience?

May be that is why we belong here mastering oneself self according to the law,

Yet we are not certain who made us here where we need to be away from tears by desire,

In such business can we sleep without something for tomorrow sheltering how one hide away from sorrow?

Being your mentor has a role in all way hateful for harassment,

But being what you are still counts in such existence we stay as mirage in time,

What happens when time stays away from your existence?

Who pay as sailor of sand approach for water?

Those forms as hollow traps of drowning boards,

Why would then sand stay still in pages of vacuum along writers of fate?

Rooted in search our pursuit for happiness harvest hearts,

And our existence born laid in graded hand with one handshake,

Fountain of my ink are some passage of time,

God has given this serenity like carpenter never finished working on its crafts,

You are planner in this bigger ship towards one destination which unwinds faith sealing limits of commitment as we drove towards the shore in making tides of fate,

As you search again there is someone along raging solution you make in this kindle space your monetarist is the door next besides one light somewhere your vision just always begin refreshed,

This truth so far as trail pieces of the reigning work of art we devote in prayer with the ultimate source supreme than existence is a life for our loved ones safe, secure and sustainable for so far as the sailor keeps those reining vine of the chariot towards harbor after everything lost in time,

Together these footnotes gave you hidden meaning behind rows towards giving away those freedom from being lost away in a windmill where God crushes our thoughts for swamping direction in the dice where its coin is time,

Is time so far lost or hosted ever existed in the pathway towards charging seasons of human climate in the quest for all its form abundant in existence that never gave up in the separation  of floats as vacuum beyond hype of its space that surround us across ages where seasons were gift for someone more important than this truth so rich and wild as human gift for its beginning in shaping limitless fortune for its charioteers as  your inner vision?

It is said even God gets committed for commuted path you follow in the safeguard of this arena discourse currents towards so wishful committed of human discovery in this small work beyond any gift what makes you are in channels of wordily gift curtained in one matter of existence called the truth. We live, eat, pray, sleep, work and fall back again in this core wisdom of every season that changes our figures in time, space and crafts one among ourselves is lead, head or dead on this wheel rotating along clocks that draft our simplicity of one heart ever made this contribution so are we committed in making this law beyond all picture where every life is precious as child in making this much count between whatsoever whomsoever made, laid or tailed as tailor who shapes dress we wore across fragile bridge we travel as our existence in time as human we ever made victim of fragility learning sublimation in the truth of one supreme foundation with mankind untouched its soil like water gives new colorful life from its pulp called lifetime we are gifted to be graciously weaved in the quest for universal ethics in the diary of one such riders with teacher in these solvents we have made as our own.



Submitted: December 16, 2014

© Copyright 2021 abyskaria. All rights reserved.

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Sat, January 10th, 2015 3:24am

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