Poem : Warps and Wraps of a Worm

A worm is alive ahead of its wrinkles

It is a worm waging wars with waters

Wrinkles that wind its whispers and wheels

It is working with wicked warps of time

Warps that wakes up at the whisker of wind

Wraps that waggle around its wrinkled weather

It was searching for lost times till yesterday

It is fighting inverted time today

It will weather withered time tomorrow

Worm, oh worm, oh wrapped up worm

Wake up, Wake up over the warping winds

Wake up, Wake up over the warping wounds

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