And he was
Kicked and thrown
But I ate
Eleven
Still I am here
And entertained
Till the month
Of Ramadan
To be forgiven
Of my words
And deeds
Evil
But I wonder
The river
Full of flowing water
Erosion
At the both end
In full swing
I dropp some boulders
But it keeps
Spreading
Throat and tongue
Full of filthy words
And Sour pickle
I sing
Seek pardon
Pray and praise
All these things
Become nothing
But noise
During months
Eleven
Overweight
With illegal diet
Out of practice
Out of ring
I play
But fouls.
Lust and greed
Eaten away
My flesh
Coveting
Has burnt
The soul
Only skeleton
Left
On the bed
Lying I see
The fan
At the ceiling
With ball bearing
Moving
With high speed
I stand up
And switch off
But it keeps moving.