The Previous Birth... Poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi

We can’t wake up from this slumber,
Saved and concealed in the box of timber,
Faring the new designs after every affair,
We can’t get it right until door is opened with a hammer.

We are awake and not contemplate of our earlier,
Notes of songs those had gone wrong and right as the administrator,
We are blinded and saddled, sitting on the oscillator,
Play the game of whistle blower after every encounter.

We can’t come out of this treacherous nap,
To see the sun in the dark and cloudy days,
The elegant stars those twinkle in the day light,
The hearts are not quiet, always beat to be glad.