Time drapes attire of vivid past,
freezes life, immortalizes art,
To make mortals revisit old-self,
Which was forsaken in the memory of hour,
Life in all her myriad forms,
Gets sealed in this immaculate craft,
On which ravages of time have no power,
No being on this canvas trespass the time,
Memory translates into the art divine,
The journey of life is traveled in an iota,
The tale of the moment is re-enacted,
On the stage of the unsieged time,
Life is relived with liberated souls,
With tears, smiles, and pathos,
The lived reality seems unlived,
Or we all were just paintings,
In this whole scheme of things,
To get etched on paper white,
In varied hues to be reminiscent of
Our presence in this oblivious ride.