Words have the reach to the depths, not seen
Not seen by these eyes, which proclaim to see everything
Words strike the surfaces, not seen
Surfaces, giving inscription as of names on tombstones
Up to me it is, how much profundity I would give them?
I peek for the places, for them inside me
Some words get repelled, some welcomed
But unknown to me, which of these are appropriate?

This heart has a peculiar state, fluctuating
Either of being lost in desires, or seeking the candor
Also the words have different face, either of lie or of truth
Hearts made of desires have only the desire
To see the words whose face are of lies
Taking away the peace, leaving restless and pain
As they become loaded with darkness and sin
The story of true words is amazing and wonderful
The moment they touch the heart, get absorbed to the infinite depth
Cleaving it to drain all the darkness and effect of sins
Leaving the virtuous roots, that get watered by every true word

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