You
The golden
morning rays.
Of Bright
Warm and
Sunny Days.
and I
dew on
greeny grass.
Shine
like a
tiny glass.
Either
You hug me
Or I
either touch thee.
One thing
But certain
The grass
Gets unburden.
And me
To loose sight
The tiny my life.
But why this
eagerness so
I can not
Wait.
What is this joy
and
Celebration of Death.
Ajay Amitabh Suman
