This weird world of ours
is rather a mirthless mess.
Or is it a thread-bare maze
That amazes with its lack of grace.
No rules to follow in its infinite alleys
Where win the wicked and the saucy!
No magic seeds the primrose paths spout!
Whence a fairyland with wonders wrought?
In worthless worry why wallow though
The witless wicked in cheap victory crow.
The grand design of this complex universe
Hath a unique pattern, rather like chess!
King a pace pawned, the queen sure wins.
The fools in their wickedness add up the sins
In the endless abyss they swirl, ever in jinx!
Pratima@Let never despair Thee distress/ The wily wor(l)ds are the Trojan horses/ Let not sloth by stealth sully thy grace/Thus canst thou in thyself h(e)aven trace!
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