Be it of wood, be it of charcoal,
Colour of fume is the same
Be is of strong, be it of weak,
The sweat of both is same.
Be it of lover, be it of poet,
The pain of both is same.
Be it of father, be it of mother,
Blessings of both are same.
Be it of brothers, be it of sisters,
Love and affection of both is same.
Be it of thinker, be it of scientist,
Vision of both is same.
Be it of life, be it of death,
The story of both is same.
The fear is making life miserable,A quantum fear takes solid toll on present and future!The gamut of love is measured in fear,Another fear is waiting in the bent,You avoid this fear thinking hope is therethis grey area yet grows more fearthey create more stories by articulate creativity,And sell their ideas as you see fear making…
sleep plays hide and seek.
with the clouds, I toss my thoughtsOn the silky amber sky –The joy my soul deriveIs the fleeting moments I realise.
Enthusiasm gained momentum, wearing golden attire,And the moon reappeared, by piercing the clouds bizarre.
It encompasses me with a soothing feelThat we are together like moon and its beam.
slaves of rituals
