Devoid of colours. The whole composition harnessed <br /> into two eyes, their divine grace <br /> <br />No magic. The multitudinous firmament enjoined <br /> only to crave hungr, it's fire <br /> <br />Call it Art or rather melancholy <br /> accepting the atom of life <br /> composing these greenary <br /> blue, blue perception, miserable narration <br /> <br />No other weapon exists, no self-conceit<br /><br />CHOUDHURI SUKUMAR<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/perception-4/
