Home Conscious, Not Homesick

In my Home, where I will be going
To a couple of Decades from now,

There is no Marriage.

Yet it is only marriage that takes you Home.

No! Actually, it is consummation of marriage that will take me Home.

That’s correct, there are neither bachelors nor divorcees at Home.

Singlehood is an allergy at Home

Dad being extravagantly loving

He surrounds us with naval officers in their ceremonial uniforms

To ensure that we remain married and our wedding gowns are shinely stainless.

We will be dwelling in the City whose streets are made of the purest of gold

Yet some siblings here like poverty

Well, good for them if poverty keep them married.

A period of absolute tranquility

There is neither sickness nor sorry

A place where there is no night

There is no need for a lamp nor sun light

Dad gives light overthere, so there is never power outage

As an heir to the throne, I will be living and reigning with my King to judge the world.

Feeding my King with the fruits of my lips will be my duty.

A musician you will call me
Then, my now cracky voice wil be perfectly auto-tuned

Serenading my King day and day nonstop.

A thousand years will be just for the honeymoon

And then forever we will live happily ever after!

This tale is not fairy.

But if you are a Thomas, please ask Bro John the Beloved!

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