One Is Some Poem by Deepta Protik Osman

Bands of sands
Killer our eyes;
Killing them to death.
Rumors of splendor
To self-killer, blender
Blenders for the worst.
Coolests and Hottests,
Fly to kill us,
White to end our eyes
Preachers of winds.
Wonder why hate is the fate,
They, the fish of sea-The Sun,
The jewels of the White-Moon.
They fight to be cool
When Sun runs,
A fool looks cool there
And inside is hot.
What they write, seems to be true,
Cool, with it, really through.
Good winds and bad winds
Shivers the sand.
Sands are friends, sands are foe
Like others of the World.
Catch the friend, dispatch the foe,
Fool knows some we don’t know.
Friends and foe in one and all, forever blow
The sky reads them down.

18/6/09