Letting go of the known

 _Letting go of the known_

- *Sushant singh rajput* ( a phrase by him)

_The encapsulation of antiques comes when the eve beholded  the truth with the crinkle sail_ ,

_The devastation of the petra stirred within the heart of that olympus oliver that can terminate the last tribunal of the wise witting fate_. 

_Then you would turn the abstractions into the abject apostolic fatigue,_

_That the wail of wonder would be heard in the hysteria of surrendering soul of long lasting league_.

_An intellect can drown the agony of plethoric deploralization in fuming fatal fiasco pinge woke_,

_That can curse the mega masterpiece that never know his own master's stroke_

_Cast the cuss of the lucifer's lamp that envisage the genius as a gentle creature,_

_The besiege benigned beast can turn the coil into the famgrasp fatal feature._

_Letting go is the whole that can let the went by pass the passage in the reluctant row_,

_The latent link beneath the admirable adieu can crump the cunning soul._

_Let's self deprive ourselves to reach at the destiny of epitomization of pinnacle leverage_,

_The wind can whip when the glimmer of  roaring rainfall befall on the angel of reckless rescue of rage_

_You won't be able to deepen the grudges of nostalgiac  narcissism that befits the applauds with recaps of reason that are fallen to assert the omnipotence solemn,_

_That is the game of germane, that play of plague and the trap of the tainted trophy realm_.

_Look you seek to become the prodigy wrapped in the whistle of winning and loosing the game that god play,_

_the insane intuition of guzzle can break the chains of sizable pious pain that is the failure's fame_

 _You can be all and you can be nothing at all,_

_And  this is the saddest and happiest saying fomenting the bizarre of basket brick wall._

_The issues lies in every single thing till you make them fucking yours_,

_This concept and idea looks monotonously boring when time passes its sifting source_.

_Now, then , past, castle,_ 

_I met my shadow that handcuffed my handed ankle ancestor hammer that put the haggard have more_ ,

_Don't rise to decaptivate the captivating castilage antagonist parity of sex's diagnosed fever that can put the blame on the redemption ruling the record of core._

_Say it at once and say it for all,_

_But these make the artist's grandeour_ ,

_that they are born highly insecure_.

_That the reader would alter the admiration and the centre of the cynical brutus bygone's tour._

_To apprehend the complextion of misapprehensions of  minutely made obscure's endure_ .

_So I closed my eyes and saw the angel's fighting the almighty's war_,

_And the devils sitting behind the curtain of carcass call_.

_That befallen are the stars that make the world more distinguishely peculiar with there pecularities_,

_and You can impignorate improperly that letting go  the known is the key to the selcouth kalopsia of paralian pictoral prose._

_In a evasive cloak-and-dagger condemnation sea of sceptical mind_ ,

_Letting go the known is the last antecedent resort to rule the stride of the decried enterprise in the praxis pride._

Poem

- by Leeza sharma