An Ode To Rain
When you'd come, and when you'd go
No one in this world does, for certain, know.
You cool the earth down all in one,
Though you yourself are burnt by the sun.
Wish I could cry
Over all my
Troubles so I
Could bid them goodbye.
A Train Journey
Time, seen from a moving train, is an object too close;
You realize just after you cross, how fast it goes.
Standing far far away are those
Memories, to the heart, too close;
There's no-one in this world who lives all alone.
Atleast there's none who can so survive.
None can do all things on one's own.
None has all skills, to by oneself, thrive.
The Horse Or The Rider?
Should the horse be blamed, if the rider lost his way?
Isn't it he, who makes it sway?
Over its eyes, a blinder is wound,