Age is a vortex which swallows all alike,
it is an inevitable road on which everyone has to hike.
I see the old dog losing its vibrancy.
His weary eyes depicting life’s inconstancy.
His eyes look familiar as if telling a story,
the story which needs no oratory.
I see a similitude in his eyes and doddering Nancy’s ,
both expressing an inescapable dormancy.
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