Pink Well

There was a pink well
People fell in it
The passage to reach was shallow
Yet the stream nearby was deep

The diggers kept on digging
The admirers revered
But those who fell; and the ones who didn’t
Both had a story to tell

Inside that place warm
Outside it was ice cold
One could stay as much as they want
But transcending emotions were low

A small shrine jutted out from the pink wall
Tiny idols hung in it
God sat there draped in sequined clothes
Feisty style flung with it

So some stood there amass
Believing in the believable
And some waggered their heads
Fighting the indisputable

But none knew why
The well was so pink
Was it in the horror?
Or just the color of God’s ink

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