But we are not lucky enough
To avail our freedom here.
We are not allowed to speak
And to write what we think
In our language so far.
We are not able to achieve
The progress and we wander
Here and there with poverty.
Our thought, our languages
Are the cause of everything.
And yet, we are not ready
To recognize the truth.
Everything one after another.
You are.Take care.Not goodThis world.Wonderful andMysteriousAnd I amCurious.Dear birdWhat you areI know not,Wander not.
And dreams.So many smilesAnd heartsFull of beauty.And lifeWith rhythmAnd rhymes.So sweetAir and water.Earth so dearTo make lifeBetter and better.
It is in very living.Still, we are going high,To park life in varieties.Still, we go on searchingFor originalities.We are addressing the self,For the truth in silence.We again search for a mediumThat is love to enable usTo move forward. In slight vibrationWe discover and rediscoverEverything from within.
Politics of lies isSelf-destruction.2Without truthI am nothing.Nothing is thereWithout the truth.3Here I amWithin my territory.4I need replacementOf my own time.5And with timeI want to moveHere and there.
ଭଲ ମଣିଷଟିଏ ।ନ ମିଳିଲା ଯାଏଲେଖୁଥିବି ଏମିତିଶୁଣୁଥିବି ନାନାଆଡୁନାନା ଗାଳି।ନ ମିଳିଲା ଯାଏଘୂରୁଥିବି ଘିରିଘିରିଖରାରୁ ତରା।କହୁଥିବି ନିଜକୁ ନିଜେହଟ ବେଃ ।କହିବି ଦେଖି ଯାସବୁ ମୁର୍ଦ୍ଦାର!
