Night will soon come
The sun rays are gradually fading out
Time and tide may prove once again to await no one
Procastination may also filch without notice

Darkness may become a robust shadow
When the journey request accomplishment
The folksayers’ song may replenish bountifully
And serenity may be a thing of thing of the past

Watch ye the cold-lonely conditions
Crawing along with the ‘all lost’ era
Had I known being a murmur
Will call for no appeal, due to fear of guilt

The call for resonance
An experience in isolation
Has yet no recognition
And has embraced fatality

Hands wave in the joyous breed
Worry finds no place
Determinent, one may say
Ranges sequencially with circulatory eventsimages


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