11:11:11: one eternity

Can an arrow ever reach such heights?
Flying past butterflies shy of leaving a bite.
For this heart soars like a kite
Gliding left and right truly short of sight.
Never leaves a dark mark so tight.

Prithee you will soon know who.
Poet is a vestige of a clue.
The clouds swim through true.
but this meaning surely has a route.

Order often seen as vital.
This is only until
borders of convention tumble
to reveal beauty in chaos
like a pearl in a clam
of a kilo and a gram.

Put it all on the line, for the confabulatory cord
let the feline out of the sack. In these verses
the meaning would be densely packed.
Could this be Agony? Shoot thyself with gun!
shh...I won.

Subtle epizeuxis seldom fails to brew tempest
though often the path to truth could be simplest.
Past role essential in manifesting present
Stinger knob merely a sojourn. A Hogshead days,
trial might harbour uncanny zeal.
Even if the verisimilitude does not peel.

Salient illustration has to be suppressed
as your mind has to exit eternal rest.
Poet's heart and mind under arrest
Just for plainly being the best.

~Nikhil~