Not just a fluid,
I am ink — the druid,
Shaping your ideas in a blink.
In depth of papers, I sink.

Not just a physical thing,
An end to your thoughts — I bring.
Not made to drink,
I am the almighty ink.

I flow on the paper,
With your thoughts — I caper.
Like the roots of a tree,
Even the history is written with me.

Not just a black fluid,
From the sac of a squid.
Not made to drink,
I am the almighty ink.

Falling like crystals,
Raindrops from the sky.
Unfurled like a blanket,
Black clouds seem to cry.

And my room is filled
With earthy scent of soil and clay.
It evokes all my memories
And nostalgia all the day.

Joined by the dancing peacock,
It quenches thirst of flowers.
Crying all the way,
Black clouds loose all their water.

I am so sorry.
I am sorry, I didn't listen to you.
I am sorry, I ignored  you.
I am sorry, I did not eat what you gave me.
I am sorry for not spending time with you.
I wanted to hug you.
I wish, I could massage your feet.
I wish, I could give you a glass of water.
I am so sorry my grandma.
Now I want to face the truth.

Falling leaves in autumn,
Washing all the sins away.
Crushed under the feet’s rhythm,
Mixing with the soil and clay.

Washing all the sins away,
Headed to fresh new start.
Mixing with the soil and clay,
Fixing the broken heart.

Headed to fresh new start,
Blooming flowers in spring.
Fixing the broken heart,
Like melodies from violin’s string.

Blooming flowers in spring—
Gave me a fresh new start.
Like melodies from violin’s string,
Solace that flowers bring to my heart.

Wind drifting through grass
At my feet, it stops and moans
Wind breaks- moaning ends

Candle burning out
Becoming smaller, melts down
Still giving out light

Water dripping down
From the leaf after the rain-
And the last drop falls