The Doors. Poem by Gangadharan nair Pulingat..

A wealthy man fortified his mansion
Seven numbers of compound wall he built around
Dug the canals and filled the water
Day and night can't be distinguished
Their the lighting arrangement were superb
The systems of security every day tightened
The alarm bells, rang in slightest disorder
To have a caution himself upon the danger
And he was so happy on the arrangement
His doors were intact and made of strong wood
Where an intruder will finds obstacles
Beyond his reach and the system was secure
His wealth he cared well and stored safely
Still one day without a knock in the door
Or before or could someone see what happens
The unknown came there the owner lives no more
Life it is a gift that got in the journey
While it is having its own merits a day comes.