Often have we seen a bird
flying far, again and again
collecting straws to weave a nest-
A shelter to lay eggs
In the dimly lit corridors of the hospital
lurked a malefic figure-
restless fidgety in the grip of passion.
Unmindful of the eerie environ
Yonder in the West,
Just before it sets,
Sun lingers, as if to cast one last look
Over what it illumined through the day.
There besides the trunk of a leafless tree
Lies a human figure in beastly nudity.
It's breathing yet; it's not dead
But no one bothers, for them it is dead
Peaceful repose of tranquility,
mirroring blissful divinity.
Heartwarming look of an innocent face
endearing charming bewitching grace;