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The Invitation
One day the smoothness would turn to wrinkles
When it can be seen wherefrom the invitation comes
The eyes would not stumble on the bare skin
Nor would the mind be deceived by flesh
The truth would reveal itself gloriously
The ears would know the music from the din!
It’s a freedom from the blind groping in the dark
That so long was thought to be living in the light
The slavery the warm blood shackles us with
The youth blindfolding and turning us away
From the mellow truth that comes only with age!
In that prime time our bodies would be irrelevant
Conversing without words in the language of soul
Every little wants meaningless and no more pleasant
Before the angelic celebration of having reached the goal!
poem
by
Pradip Chattopadhyay
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