On dark mysterious nights
A young mysterious lady
(Who had mysterious black hair
And wore a mysterious black dress)
Brought mysterious black berries
From a mysterious garden
To her mysterious hut.

One day a mysterious man
Knocked at her mysterious hut
The mysterious lady welcomed him in
And gave him a mysterious drink.

The mysterious man died a mysterious death.

It was a dark, moonless night
It was raining very hard-
Lightening and thundering-
The wind was blowing fiercely
There was no one in sight.
I was hurrying alone on the street
I was near my home.
Suddenly there was
A blinding flash of light
And it was all over.

I don't need to hurry home anymore.

At the stroke of midnight
(Supposedly the time when
Witches with pointed hats
Fly on ancient brooms
In the dark sky)
I feel a chill run down my spine
A new energy filling me up
And a sense of belonging to another world...

Something special in them
An old man
Beautiful grandfather
Spectacles
Perched on his forehead
Sat to read the newspaper
But everything was blurry
He realized
Where were his spectacles?
He looked around
Couldn't find them
Called his daughter
Asked her the same
A moment of joy!
Take her hand
Did she
To his forehead
And brought back
The glasses
Straight to his eyes!
What was radiant
And infections
Was the gentle
Smile on the old man's
And his daughter's faces
One being  happy at
Someone's childishness
The other
In child like
Realization!

A poor fellow's eyes
Were losing their lustre
He had glaucoma.
One day,
His worried friend
Sat beside him and asked,
'What colours will be for you then,
when you lose your eyesight?'
The fellow smiled and said,
'Memories.'

When you're grief-stricken
There's darkness all around
As your world just shatters
And the shards are thrown in a bin
Seems as if-
All these jolly people who surround
Are not interested in your matters.

There is no one to console you.