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Do not grant to dwell in this symphonious stillness,


The time when the spells of thoughts arise, awake,


A pall staleness of trickster time, embraces the air,


Happiness, like a charm, lures to mystic pleasures,


Letting lose the taut body and the vigil conscious,


Into an infinite ebb, defying time, yet, soundless,


Into the world of time, with each second kenned,


Floating on a quiet moving cloud over raging seas,


An ambience of allay anarchy and insipid instincts,


It is to be where the peace and perturbation meet,


To cast a silent yet strident music to the living soul,


Therefore I say, to the lovers of peace and merry,


Do not grant to dwell in this symphonious stillness.



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