Such

Such is the way of the world,
Such is the way of the heart,
Such ends it and such is where it starts.
Such miracles of nature are explained in such and such,
Such brigades of danger, they tell such is our luck.
But when you tell me dearly, that such is how it ends,
That such is where the river falls without the showing of a bend
Then such is not an answer that satisfies the mind,
Surely such a clever girl as you could sputter out a line,
Without such high philosophies of Aristotle's kind,
Of unsentimental reasoning with such solid proofs behind;
That love is a tender fabrication woven by the mind
On a loom of imagination handled by the blind;
That such a sickly thing as destiny would be fallen by the wind
Before its stumbling legs could walk, nigh chaining other things.
But if such is how your mind is set
Then such we shall depart,
But do not shield your eyes with such
To keep from looking at your heart.

Copyright © 2005 Prabhath Avadhanula