A pyre is made there near <br />a river bank for the funeral of earth <br />in planks from one real wild <br />stormy forest and that fire engulfs <br />in agitated minds….. <br />It grabs earth from its roots of origin <br />and its wildness intolerable..... <br />Heaven and God watch from above <br />in disguise. …a saving grace <br />sure they lift earth in one <br />safe and secure axis.. <br />no aisle needed in that sanctum.. <br />and those cry for death traps <br />fail and walk back.. <br />and it rains from heavens above <br />to tranquilize the fire.of one wild <br />forest........ <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br />June 21,2009<br /><br />Rema Prasanaa<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/pyre-2/
