The fragrance of heavens, the smell of hells,
by Rishikesh R Ranga
From beyond the skies come, many tell.
During the day has sun and noon,
But in the night gloom stars and moon.
The sky some times throws thunder lights,
Brings many deaths still shines bright…
Many a blue and oranges in the sky,
Very far – fetched and at great heights.
It speaks pride in itself at once,
What’s been given is not to be returned.
No one knows where the sky ends.
From where it starts to where it lands…