Art of Nirvana

Succulent peace throbs the mind,
In this place so sought after.
White! the color of peace.
idols of the enlightened one,
glowing undeniably…
thudding of the gigantic barrel,
summoning the creators,
murmuring silent mantras,
blowing the droning horns,
aroma of incense enhancing the air,
red clad monks selling stories...
believers and misbelievers gaze in awe,
holy faces all around...
shrouding sinned scars,
each chant fills an aura,
an aura to Nirvana...
Has anyone yet succeeded?
An unanswered question,
yet the art of nirvana,
still pace less,
still mysterious.
still sought after,
like the distant stars in the sky.