My life my future

My life my future
Life seems to be a glittering waves under the Eocene  beds
Like the sleepy pun in the wake of starry night;
Whoever knows the mystery hidden inside the battered zeal.
A life is made up of empty vessel if knowledge passes away
For switching over the difficulties in the beams of hectic ray of the sun.
Above the ground so low to ponder over ideas and research like thought
As if the tone of humans zeal are always brainstorming.
To congregate the  ideas of the dilapidated cottage
In mournful attitude of the billiard whichever lies in the dried leaves
For the sake of hale and hearty underneath the riverbeds
Intoning the gentle bridge for hopeful vigilance hereinafter.

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