Withered, wilted leaves and flowers,
Symbols of maya, believed to bestow life,
Yet failing to yield lasting joy beyond the fleeting moment,
A brief, ephemeral existence, dissolving into thin air.
Then awakening, transient and fleeting,
Like a lingering hangover, a bitter aftertaste,
Back to the same allure, repulsed, turning inward for contemplation.
Life oscillates between these two realms,
Playing out the drama until the final act.
Dr.S VPrabhath
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