Lying on the floor
In empty hands.
The high drama ends
With no hero
Declared as saviour
Of common voters.
And democracy cried
And democracy cried
With faulty system
Of number games.
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Dear bird,
You are.Take care.Not goodThis world.Wonderful andMysteriousAnd I amCurious.Dear birdWhat you areI know not,Wander not.
Maa, maa bhasha aau maatrubhumi bina,
Tume kouthi bi paramananda paipariba nahin.This is a translation of the poemWithout Mother, Mother Tongue And MotherlandbyGajanan Mishra
Brand look
I am notSingle here.Art, love,And nature,All favourite,Dear.DropletsWater.MixingAll colours.Rise fallNo matter.
1
What is that?Instrument to exploit!2Is it here?Fear-free environment!Let me agree on all points.3I know notWhat the hell is here!But nothing to offer.
My language my voice
All blood all waterAll fire all despairAll yours.And dear you are thereTo show the importance ofMy life my bookWritten and unwrittenDistinct and unique.
The holy place –
Love is hereFor you,Dear truth.All the oceans,All the sky,All the earth,And all things areHere in this body.All good worksAre to be doneFor the future.Nothing wrongIn this body.Short and long,Soft and hard,White and black,And find everythingIn this body.Without the bodyNothing is there.Take care.