The grave of past has held each corpse from yores
And swells as each one falls from living guild,
If universe sustains on lives of ours -
Grown and consumed - for its superior build.
Emerge do lives from nowhere, beaver 'way
All through to self-aggrandize with their piles,
But sink into Nether and melt away
Fore'er, strpp'd of things earned by rights or
guiles.
Life is, to guess, an action manifest
By lot ordain'd by cosmic automation
On move with each stage run that comes to rest
Continually in some benign direction;
For static's ne'er the universe we live in,
Momentum gain'd with momentry propellin'.
-- N. P. SAMAL, POET, AUTHOR, ACADEMIC
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