New Year's March! Poem by Namratha Swamy

Take it easy, Sorrow of the passing year. Settle down.
You asked for the Evening and now it has come.
It is here and a passing fog has blanketed the town infecting some with strange calmness and the rest with fear.

While the squalid throng of mortals swing to the passing year's heartless beat and find remorse in lavish partying, take my hand, Sorrow. I will lead you out.

Look! As the dead year lurches in tattered clothes from the Heaven's balconies, Regret of the lost year emerges with a grin.

The spent sun softly passes out beneath the New Year's arch. Listen, O love! listen - to the soft light of the New year's dawn marching in.