By Soumya Sunder

Purity, taking the form of love,
An immortal love showered in tons.
It is the mother’s love so pleasant,
So pure – to be nurtured.

She deposits our worries in herself,
Providing lots of love as interest.
She guarantees us the best of life,
Removes evil with her sword or knife.

Her sword or knife is nothing big,
Bigger is the love she bestows upon us.
She tries to provide us with everything possible,
More than everything is her trust on us.

The person who identifies our hidden talent,
Is the person who is the reason of our lives.
Our attachment is the greatest of all,
Nothing beyond her love can touch the sky.

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