By Pradeep Chopra
From some deep wells of past,
The labyrinth of time;
The mirror of my memories
Covered with dust and grime.
The cold breath of age fails to clear
The thick dust of years
And the silvers tarnished,
Yet the image endures.
Like the picture of Dorian Gray
I hide the image with great care;
In the deep vaults of my heart
The dark secret I share.
Fond wish! It was not to be so
It is the image that endured.
Fresh and young it remains
In that dark prison immured.
While the years are pared off
Swiftly by an unknown knife,
The acid of age eats deeper
Grooves on the canvas of life.
Till the chill hand of death
Ends this damning duality
And the mirror, the image & Dorian Gray
Dissolve in the ultimate reality.