Longing Perpetualism Poem by Sparsh Jain

The question is should we stop or keep dancing forever this way?
Why stop even for a bit into those morbid eyes of others.
Where they undress us from our wit and pride.
When we can be, What we are, A ‘Whole'.

The future is Fluid, Whilst we dance the Galla.
One foot wrong, the wearing mask is torn.
And they can see your naked troubled eyes.
Not from the sense that the lad wants to be a good gentleman.
But as a snide as that ignorant democrat instead.

In that dance.
We are the axis of the torquoidal time and life.
The place with people and grass, look at as like a ESP phenomenon.
But one step wrong, We are sentenced to this singular genetic form.

I don't say that our feet won't get tired.
That loving and living are the same or the scrounging eyes will rest.
If you lean on me enough, like a day when I get you your favourite dress.
Trust me, Maybe! Just maybe!
We can be till the end.