Sitting besides the blue-ish river of Atlanta,
Staring, the filled sky with grains,
Glittering in the nights.
He beseeches for a masterpiece.
A thought, that can change,
his life, before, it ends.
Carving, through the muds of soil,
he began his journey of life.
Some emotions, like an ocean,
with devotion, and his imagination,
created some wonderful creations.
Dolls, to play with,
Sculptures, to decor with,
Utensils, to cook and eat with.
Love and emotions put into it,
to live with.
Paving ways to the thirst of his creativity,
to accomplish, its starvation,
to achieve its thoughts, of giving life,
life to the cluster of soil and water.
Now scattered, within itself,
asks for relief, in search of something,
to mark his name,
in the history of this world.
Never found, was a masterpiece.
Found, was never a masterpiece.
Life squanders, to a limitless,
infinite, search for the pearls.
Never seen but catching,
Attentions of all, calling,
deep and within,
the structured, boundaries of flesh,
Craving, is a masterpiece.