Life goes on dying after restless urges,
We never realise that diseased eyes could kill hundreds sights,
A kite that’s lost today , once were played by us at our own sky,
There’s no peace of Mother found in son’s crawling face,
A mumbling time is passing by our cravenness….
We never understand that whatever is ours …will come to us by their own wish….
The night comes up with darkened city streets ….the blissful colours do describe the innocent victims….
Let the day come…again we shall be engaged in enacting that all seems to be right…though we still crave for what we haven’t got yet….