See, observe and think,
Think, believe and narrate.
Isnt the nature so incredible,
And India surviving in its lap.
Not for nature, nor for motherland,
Its for sunrise. The rise that awakes,
Rise to and for everyone, everywhere,
For time, on split laps of permission.
The things for whom i go deep,
In weathers and climates who survive.
Its for shadows of own,
Who dont owe a profession.
For paupers of thoughts, count the numbers,
Weigh the price, these words hold.
No comments:
Post a Comment