when the gurgling tormentous river flow.
Be the mound that makes the ridge
where the firsts streaks of the sun glow.
Be the floor on which a palace stands
and witness glory embedded in time.
Be the memory that mingles in sands
when every life would reach its prime.
Be the shell that holds the pearl
and brave the rough on the outside.
Be the one who in danger himself unfurl
and who till his last would duty abide.
Prasenjit©2023
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