Widow feelings,
black and white,
Both nature and day,
Goes to temple,
Prays whole day,
To pass…
Start with ‘Tulsi‘,
Jailed in home,
Paper and ink
Sketched a blank…
Vibrated soul,
Sleepless eyes,
Moist round chicks,
Imagined that myth…
Extreme sorrows,
Works left not borrowed
Doing the same
Welling the empty well…
Happens in grounds,
Unfertilized with emotions,
Neutralized by demonstrations,
Of their wills, and powers to heal..
Does it matters,
Life being scattered?
Emotionless and dampness without hands of hope,
And willing ever loss…
The storm of Sorrow,
Could bring all this horror, but
Is it that end??
You wished, when eight.
where that aspiration,
And optimization??
You planned for something.
This is the Right phase,
To round the circle, if wish
Against the avoidance by you,
And Tear this myth, that
you can’t or you wouldn’t…
If agree to stand,
Against that you,
Gear the heart,
to pump very fast.
Because the chain or oath,
Needs effort a lot,
to Break, to Change….
Now load the sound, that
You could, you can, and you will.
Yes!
That is the spirit,
To coupled the charm,
With care and with ‘Jaam‘.
LineSays 