The Immutable

Have you ever weighed upon your minds
the seemingly meaningless passage of time?
Or have you ever thought that you could rescind
this indefatigable steady mutation of thine
happiness, sorrows, values and prime.

Isn’t it a shapeless form
defying al the tenets of established norm
Imbibed with that characterless disposition
which has always added to the philosopher’s confusion.

Can it be arraigned
of the assaults sustained
on psyche, fomenting doubt;
thinking the thoughts never thought about
marring the possibility of happiness much awaited.

What if it is absolved
for having dissolved
that painful lump in the heart
or for having smoothened that crease
on memory reminding, how you were hurt.

How is conscience conformed?
In eternal flow of time is it reformed?
Art thou of the Kantian type?
Then confabulations on conscience’s composition
aren’t a hype.

Doesn’t this ubiquitous ether
Forms that tether
Tied to which
are our memories poor and rich
forming the shape of the self;
yet being that distant impassionate observer


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