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