Now here is a thought bold: There is nothing old.
As a seed changes form and withers later as a tree
The conditions must be right to break on to a spree.
Two seeds conjoined to make me as I was
And they remain in me as I am newest now without a pause.
Am I even the harbinger of a spirit, a soul
Or am I just two seeds newest and made whole?
I am a true tree in human form with the garments given
That two seeds had conjoined and brought.
A stealer of hearts, a hoarder of love, a veritable thief,
I remain two seeds that exist upon my fief.
And then perish must I, giver of love and life
As two seeds that were too new and had to die.
There is nothing old, everything is now new
As just two seeds I am but only few.
-- Doel Sengupta
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