In the death of light
Leave a poem alone

After years
Go back to see it
And don't fear
Like a mother
It will set you thinking
You had dropped it minutes back
Poem doesn't die
Like a leaf, abandoned
In the ground
Or on concretes
And does not have destiny
Like that of a crumpled papper
In a stinking dustbin
Or on heaps of scrapes
Each moment
It emits aroma
And you hug it
Throughout your life
And feel happier
And much blessed