How smoke dances on water
and the ripples does the same.
None stays - it doesn't matter.
None stays - it doesn't matter.
It's part of our nature's game.
A ripple that is now born,
in a moment is no more.
Smoke that do the air adorn,
will away from us soar.
The ripple kisses the smoke,
in a bid to say forever 'bye'.
Oh! How the heart of ripples choke,
when smoke vanishes on the high.
Prasenjit©1997-2022
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