| Marks of the glory |

•

Compassion scampered
Bare– without possibility,
Justice– with faith
To convene with its lover,
Called the Lord of Swarga.

Trotting for the life, to deter death,
Pigeon falls into the lap of King Śhibi,
Where only Justice and Compassion could unite,
Lover they were–are,
Insulated by barriers of beliefs,
Alone and set apart,
Subsist with a desire to unify.

Śhibi is willing to forfeit his–self,
A man of vows and King of moralities,
Just to assess the flesh with flesh,

Tear up his own, blood plunge,
But not his oath.

Little flesh couldn't pay for life,
So he lay his body on the balance,
Justice laid unclad percolated
Of all desires,
King sacrifice himself
For the freedom of disciple,
Compassion blew the possibility,
From the same blood.

Subtle drops fall on the glorious land,
Engrave his tale, concoct every fibre,
Keep of his valour.

A dream spirit,
A man like him breathed,
Would do, to relinquish,
A mark on the heart.

Future succeeds from you,
Strokes of red inscribe a tale,

Of I and yours,

Of ours.

•

Cover Page Note:

The cover page has the image of King Śhibi, from Ajanta Caves. A man of value who sacrificed his life to save the pigeon who have come under his refugee. Fulfilling his duty as King. We need people like him; ready to put lives before his; ready to keep justice unscathed.

This book is a thank you note to all these people who made these sacrifices. Covering these thousands of years in just one life of a book.