Hankering reincarnation as an elixir,
For the affliction of nonce spell.
Aspiration to publicate existence
With prior motion, which no entity actually can.
Elecit what is foredoom,
To us, immutable from God.
Transition of bale, at will,
Is nevermore a corporeity of whim.
Some may gripe, it bigoted,
On the part of GOD.
To bereave of one so cherished,
A prevalent sob of the ‘Mod’.
Ever bizarre are his contrivance,
Never, is, He found cliquish.
On our part, we to discrepate,
Between the voracity & the deify.
So never feel spurned & despise,
Even if you miss your ‘choice’.
Felicitous, your perception,to cortege
Shall recapitulate, nectarous cloying of voice.
~ Stuti Saxena Singh