The very desires of her heart, holds her to ransom,
A certain feeling of both fulfillment and helplessness,
Gushing out of her imaginations
Its life but not as we know it;
A woman’s soul so deep—deeper than the ocean,
A life of commitment to personal values on one hand,
And intrinsically bounded by life realities on the other,
It’s life but not as it ought to be;
A man of honor and valor,
Conquering Men, beasts and gods,
Yet, in ruins lies his household,
Yes its life but a weird one at that;
A sea of religious houses---scattered all over,
Measuring only an inch in depth,
A sheep commanding a pride of lions,
Its life but only what you make of it.
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