My God is an architect!

In the beginning i would like to start with a poem,why because, this may recall somebody from his blues , a death cliff...i do not know whether he has been in those grey days still...more over i would like to keep me alive!

 

where is the door of oblivion

can heal the wounds of shattered dreams

with a fresh breeze of tolerance!

here the plinth of sorrows

shake the wall of belief and

may crack the roof of power.

when a drop of remorse and

a ray of hope falls to this mundane pragmatic floor

i will feel ,

The Curator ,The Architect smiles on us trascedentally