Lend your eyes or do not,
The flow of it knows no clot.
The arms of mortals get may weary,
But not its arms rest deary.
Every time it aligns, with our eye ball,
‘How unaligned us’, is our call.
Penalties by it, meet inevitably, our fate,
For clemency unfortunately, is not its trait.
Competing it are humans profuse,
But the wise only knows escaping misuse.
Lingering around is its fear of lack,
But none knows its planetary hack.
By Prerna Daga
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