The border is intact
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In this hilly village,
I lived as a child,
With the passage of time,
Village has become wild.
I visit here again,
After a long phase,
Upon the heap of years,
Is piled, the bundle of age.
It is the same rock,
My place of fun and game,
On it, with childish urge,
I had engraved my name.
With passage of time,
Nature has faded my name,.
The stone has tarnished,
And words are lame.
On the inscribed script,
Many cracks are seen,
Rustic grass has grown,
Scattered; in-between.
Time will erase my name,
The border remaining intact,
Next name will replace mine,
This is the eternal fact.
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