Miscalculated the unraveling hours of time,
misunderstood thy miraculous signs.
Baffled, almost sacked in parochialism,
Thy person is infinitely inescapable.
Mind is wrecked, perhaps! a minute piece is still left unshaken.
Sooner or later will be a pessimist, but for now being nothing
Resting submerged in the mysteries, unresolvable.
Why is it melancholic? WHY?
You- the epitome of warm Sun glittering in harsh dark sky,