The New Season

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THE NEW SEASON-poem

Forty pale Seasons has passed.
Dark halos around my body,
Walked this world with sick soul,
With guided by no passions
With weak limbs and artificial smile.


           Unlike ere, ‘it’s different season,
              Season: In which there is perennial joy,
        Now I smile and laugh to the Universe.
      With Bona fide smile: Not born superficially.
       But bloomed from immortal bud of Ecstasy.

By-Lt.Karma Tshelthrim


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